Chances
by HHHereComesTrouble
Summary: Their errors tore them apart the first time. The chances of them meeting again are remote, but when all the right stars align, nothing is impossible...HHH/Steph.
1. Prologue

June 29th, 2002

Dear Hunter,

Let me start off by saying that I'm sorry.

I truly am. And I know those words get thrown around a lot, but I mean it, Hunter. I'm sorry for everything – the lies, the secrets, the jealousy, the betrayal. I'm sorry for all the things that went wrong during the time you spent married to me. I know they say everybody makes mistakes, but there's a line you cross after making so many, where they really can't be called mistakes anymore.

So I guess I should apologize for all of my non-mistakes.

First and foremost, I had no right to accuse you of being unfaithful, on numerous occasions. I let my pride get the better of me and jumped to conclusions. Whether it was with your old flame Chyna or the blonde sex symbol Trish, it didn't matter. I was wrong, and I'll openly admit that. I refused to hear you out and just forced myself to stay mad at you. There lies one of the main reasons our marriage failed: lack of communication.

Going off on a tangent for a moment, I really do think we might have been able to fix things if we'd only just talked to each other about our problems. But instead, we shut the other out and used the excuse of "needing space" to avoid confronting our issues. Your injury certainly didn't help (not that I'm putting the blame on you). I think those were the months where we drifted apart the most. We went from being a happily married couple to individuals who wore rings. I'm not really sure what point I'm trying to make here, but I just needed to get that off my chest.

Back to apologizing… Kurt Angle, one of the constant variables in all our disputes. I knew Kurt was attracted to me, and for some reason, I still chose to hang out with him against your wishes. I should have respected your feelings. Now looking back, I was probably the biggest hypocrite on the face of the planet. I blew up over two or three incidents involving you with other females, while you had to put up with Angle screwing with our marriage for _years_. Hell, I even went as far as forcing you to befriend him. Please don't blame Angle, though. Again, I'll let you hold me accountable for my stupidity.

I've reserved a part of this letter to address my personality in general. To put it blatantly, I was clingy, nagging, controlling, and just flat out rude sometimes. I refused to listen to your warnings of staying in the back. For that, I usually received my karma, but you often got a piece of it as well. I'm sorry for every match or title shot I've cost you. I cannot even recall how many times you said to me, "We've been over this a million times. I don't want you at ringside." My hat goes off to you for putting up with my bitching and moaning in those situations.

To bring up one incident in particular, I'm sorry for that night where I told you that you weren't good enough for me – that my father was right when he said you didn't deserve me. I was wrong, and I knew it at the time. But I let my inability to back down from a fight take over and said it anyways. You may deny it, but I hurt your feelings. Just know that, if anything, I was the one who didn't deserve you. Ever. You're a great man, Hunter.

This will probably be the hardest part for me to write, so bear with me please.

I know you can never forgive me for lying to you about the pregnancy, but I still feel that it's necessary to give an apology. My intentions were good, but I went the wrong way about them. My actions are inexcusable and unforgettable. I took something so near and dear to the both of us – the miracle of life – and manipulated you to get what I want. I still look in the mirror sometimes and feel so much hatred towards myself that it's unbelievable. I cannot believe what I did; you had every right to kick me to the curb. I'm to blame for all of this.

I'm not sure when you'll be reading this letter, but I'm sure it's been many years since the last time we've seen each other – the day where I packed up my stuff at the office, after you pinned me in the triple threat match. Perhaps by now, you're married and have children with a woman who you love to pieces. I bet you make her eyes light up when you talk to her, much like mine once did. You hold her through the nights and the gentle heat from your body comforts her.

Perhaps, you don't remember me or the memories you still possess are vague. Well if that is the case, I'm Stephanie McMahon (-Helmsley), your former wife. Stands at five feet, nine inches. Brunette. Eye color, blue. The girl from the drive thru wedding chapel? We took over the company together and dubbed the time period as the "McMahon-Helmsley Era?"

I'm positive you're an amazing father and husband by now, Hunter. I'm glad there's someone out there capable of providing you with the life that I wasn't able to give you. Thank you for all the laughs, tears, smiles, and love. You've made me a better person and helped me grow up. And just in case you didn't get the message the twenty times I've already said it, I'm sorry.

If you've made it to the end of this, picture me giving you a standing ovation. If not, well, I guess you won't be reading this, huh? You might have forgotten me until you read this and it reminded you of the woman who you once called yours. Please know that I haven't forgotten you, nor will I ever.

I'm blessed to have had the chance to get to know you. Goodbye, Hunter Hearst Helmsley.

With love,

Steph


	2. Wishing You Well

July 2nd, 2002

Dear Hunter,

Hey. It's me again. After I finished writing the last letter to you, I realized I still had much more to get off of my mind. I would have just added on to the original one, but as you can tell by the date above, it's taken me a few days to gather my thoughts. So here goes nothing…

This may sound strange, but in a way you're all I've really got right now. I feel like I can finally open up to someone, even if it's just through paper and a pen. You may or may not actually receive these letters ever…but if I convince myself that I will give them to you someday, I feel like someone is listening; like I'm not just going stir crazy.

Anyways, I've reached the conclusion that the WWE is no place for someone like me. Like you, it will remain a piece of my heart forever, but less and less as each day goes by. I long to move forward with my life and to do so, I've left Connecticut. I will not disclose my whereabouts, as they are merely temporary at the moment. The way I see it, the more distance I lodge between myself and where I used to live, the easier it will be to leave my old habits behind me.

For the first time in my life, I will be a regular girl with regular goals and a regular job. I know you cannot fathom why I would want to do such a thing. After all, you've always been a larger-than-life, strive-to-be-the-best type of person. At times, it's made me jealous of you. You were (and probably are still) absolutely perfect. You had the body, the looks, the talent, and women flocked you constantly. You could talk the talk and walk the walk; and I was just me.

You've made me everything that I am – the good and the bad. You've brought out the best of me, but have also provoked me to reveal a brutally ugly side. That is the part I'd like to leave behind. Jealousy, hatred, and self-righteousness are all part of my past now. For you, I promise to become a better person. Then at least you'll know our marriage wasn't completely worthless. You can go through life knowing that you've helped at least one woman straighten out her priorities.

With love,

Steph

* * *

July 15th, 2002 – Stamford, Connecticut

"What the hell do you mean she's _gone_?"

"Exactly that, Dad! She's _gone_! Missing! Disappeared! Not here!" Shane shouted, tossing his hands in the air as he listed the first synonyms that entered his mind. Vince ran the tips of his fingers along his jaw line in frustration.

None of this was making any sense. How could his daughter just…pack up and leave, without informing anyone? Sure he hadn't seen Stephanie in almost three weeks, but they still kept in touch through late night phone calls and the occasional e-mail. Moving away was something she'd never even hinted at, and it wasn't like his daughter to just refrain from sharing those important details of her life. Perhaps Shane had his facts jumbled up, or had been fed false information.

"So you expect me to believe that Stephanie – my baby girl – just took off in the middle of the night, without breathing a word of it to any of us?" Vince scoffed. He leaned back in the office chair and exhaled deeply when Shane's brown orbs widened.

"You think this is something I would lie about, Dad?"

"You do have a notorious habit of bending the truth, but that's not what I'm getting at." He paused. "I'm not accusing you of being a liar, but maybe you need to…sort out your facts." As a look of confusion washed over his son's face, Vince spoke up again. "Okay, before we end up trying to rip each other's throats out, let's just…talk this out. Start from the very beginning."

"Alright," he responded coolly, appreciative that his father wasn't looking to pick a fight either. "So yesterday, I tried calling Steph's cell – multiple times throughout the course of the day. She didn't pick up. But it didn't send me to voicemail either. I called her service provider and they told me that the number was no longer in existence. None of this was adding up, right? So I decided 'What the hell, why don't I just pay my sister a visit in person?' When I arrived at her apartment, an unfamiliar face answered the door. The person claimed that Stephanie moved out two weeks ago… So that leaves us with quite the mystery on our hands."

Vince thought long and hard about what Shane had just revealed. Was it possible that Stephanie just moved into a new apartment and didn't find it necessary to tell anyone? Still, that seemed suspicious. She wasn't exactly someone who kept things to herself. The whole non-existent phone number scenario was throwing him off as well. The only explanation he could muster was that Stephanie had moved out of state and therefore, needed to get a new number with the appropriate area code. But where the hell would she go, and why?

"So find her, Shane!"

"What the hell do you think I've been trying to do?" the younger man cried in defense.

"Well you haven't been trying hard enough!"

"Oh and I'm sure you could do so much better, Dad of the Year."

"Damn it, Shane! Don't make me…" Vince let his voice trail off, upon feeling a set of fierce eyes staring him down. "What the hell do _you_ want?"

Both father and son turned to face their former family member who had likely been listening in on their conversation from the other side of the office door.

"Nothing, Vince," he sighed. "Absolutely nothing."

"Good! Because you listen here, Helmsley! You're not getting _anything_ from me anymore. No title shots, no paid vacation days, no holiday bonuses…nothing! Do I make myself clear?"

Hunter swallowed and nodded his head obediently. He was hoping it had come off as a gesture of fear and assumed it did by the devilish smirk the old goat was wearing. If Hunter wanted to guarantee himself a spot at the top of the roster, he was better off keeping his tail between his legs, because he was already in deep shit with the McMahons'. The last thing he needed was the most powerful family in the business to let a pack of wild dogs loose on him.

"Now would you leave me and my son with some privacy?"

It was an order rather than a question. And Hunter was more than happy to comply. He himself had quite a bit of thinking to do, too. Silently, he exited through the door and clicked it shut behind him. The hallways of headquarters seemed unusually vacant today.

Or maybe Hunter just felt unusually lonesome. Abandoned. Forgotten.

People who normally went out of their way to greet him or cater to his needs didn't even bother to acknowledge his presence. Co-workers no longer needed to kiss his ass to save their own behinds. And somewhere along the way, he lost the one person who truly meant something to him.

Technically, he was the one who gave her the boot…yet still, he felt that he'd lost her – like she'd betrayed him. She _did_ betray him. And since she'd been forced to leave the company, she hadn't made any effort at all to contact him. She didn't even send any uptight lawyers to negotiate the terms of their divorce with him. It was like she'd fallen off the face of the planet.

And the sickening truth was that he sort of hoped she did.

Hunter never wanted to look into those damn manipulative blue eyes of hers ever again. He didn't want to see her face or hear her whiny voice. He didn't even want to hear her fucking _name_ for as long as he lived. It took every ounce of will in his body to restrain himself from blowing a gasket outside of Vince's office. His sole intention was to discuss his future, but as soon as he heard _her_ name, his mind went into overload and he felt like pounding his fist through the wall. The only factor that prevented him from doing so was that his former in-laws were contemplating over whether St—_she_ had fled the state or not. And from the sound of it, she had. Therefore, she was out of his life forever.

Hunter ran his fingers through his blonde ponytail as his shoes padded across the office lobby. He blatantly ignored the receptionist's goodbye and let the glass door swing closed after stepping through it.

Once upon a time, his marriage was meant to last for forever, too. Apparently, forever had its restrictions though. He just prayed those same limits didn't apply to his ex-wife's abrupt disappearance.


	3. New Lives

July 15th, 2007 (Present Day) – Oakland, California

"Meeting adjourned," Todd proclaimed, as he rose from his seat at the end of the long, mahogany table. Not a second had passed before everyone else did the same and swarmed to the nearby door. It was nearly seven o'clock and people were anxious to get home without encountering any nighttime traffic.

Stephanie lingered towards the back of the crowd and tolerantly waited for the room to clear before exiting herself. She often found that hurrying through life came with few benefits. Most people didn't see it that way. Residents of urban California had little to no patience. But it wasn't like Stephanie had anywhere to be tonight.

As she was about to step through the doorway, a hand rested upon her shoulder. Curiously, she turned around to find her boss smiling at her eagerly.

"Ah, Stephanie, you don't mind if I keep you for a few moments, do you?"

"Not at all, Todd," she responded.

Todd wasn't a terrible looking man in Stephanie's opinion. He had short, dark brown hair and was always clean-shaven. His skin was tanned and his eyes were chocolate. There wasn't really anything _wrong_ with him – not physically at least. Mentally, Stephanie always assumed he was a little out there.

Four years ago, she walked into this very meeting room for a job interview with Todd. The whole thing was very brief and the questions were vague. Yet for some reason, he had hired her on the spot as a journalist. She was taken aback, but pleased nonetheless. Come to find out a few weeks later, Todd had developed a slight obsession with Stephanie.

The anonymous flowers left in her office daily made it pretty clear she had an admirer or a stalker of some sort. The gesture was sweet, but creepy. Todd later revealed himself as the perpetrator prior to asking Stephanie to go out on a date with him. She politely declined with the reliable excuse that she preferred to keep her business and personal life separate. As expected, Todd was bummed but understood her reasoning. Ever since, their professional relationship has been fairly awkward.

"So I wanted to talk to you," he began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his grey slacks.

"About the article deadline?" Stephanie guessed.

"Actually, no." Todd paused. He looked down at the tiled flooring before gazing back at Stephanie. "I was just wondering if you ever changed your mind about…you know…us." By now, she was used to the occasional hint at taking things to another level. Obviously Todd Dawson never overcame his little crush. But hey, at least her job was safe.

"Todd, we've been over this a million times," Stephanie sighed. Saying that brought a sense of déjà vu to her mind. Like…like one of these I-swear-this-has-happened-before moments. Certain things she said or saw triggered the feeling every now and then. It was strange at most, but she was used to it. She continued on, despite Todd's failure to hide his pout. "I just don't want to cross that line. And you shouldn't either. It's best if we're just colleagues, friends at most."

"Don't let the position we're in stop us from being together, Stephanie."

_That's not the only thing stopping me._

"It's just not going to work out. I'm sorry," she stated.

"I understand," he sulked, lowering his head in defeat.

"Bye Todd."

Stephanie was happy to dismiss herself from that encounter and headed for the door, where she should have been a few minutes ago.

"Drive home safely!"

At the sound of his holler, she turned her head and sent him an appreciative smile.

At last, Stephanie had arrived to her car without anymore interruptions. The parking garage was nearly empty and the evening air was chilly. She was in desperate need of a hot shower and a home-cooked dinner.

As she drove home, her thoughts were fixed on the conversation with Todd. _Todd, we've been over this a million times. _The words rang in her ears, echoing like an offbeat drum. The whole feeling of déjà vu before made her worry the more she dwelled on it. Sure she probably held this conversation with Todd at least every other month, but this was a different sensation. Things she said with great frequency stuck in her mind like glue. She was aware of it when she said them and didn't think twice about it. Then there were certain things she said – or did – that made her feel like it's happened before, but the details were sketchy. It was like having specific pages to a book. Without them all, the story made no sense.

The bright lights of the city fuzzed her vision. She turned the dial of the radio to the right, increasing the volume of the music. Oh, how she craved that hot shower.

* * *

Present Day – Greenwich, Connecticut

"Well, it's not my duty to babysit you out there, Hunter!"

He groaned and fluffed the pillow that his leg was propped up on. A wince hardly escaped his lips at the jolt of pain in his knee. He didn't need to add fuel to the fire with Macy. Before he knew it, she'd be complaining about his noisemaking. While in reality, _she_ was the one who babbled on the phone for hours on end.

"And another thing!" she shouted, appearing in the bedroom doorway with her hands placed firmly on her hips. "You should really start taking better care of yourself when you're hurt. Maybe if you actually took the medication that the doctor prescribed, you wouldn't be in so much pain!"

"Did it ever cross your mind that most of my pain comes from you not being able to shut your fucking mouth? Do you think the doctor can prescribe a fucking medication for that?" Hunter retorted nastily. He was tired of being treated like shit around here. He was the one putting a roof over this damn woman's head and all she did was nag him nonstop. A slight smirk crossed his lips at the shocked expression on her face. _Take that, bitch!_

She flipped her straight, blonde hair over her shoulder in an irritated manner before marching to the side of the bed. Hunter made a point of not looking at her. She wasn't worthy of that from him.

"You know what?" she screamed.

Hunter tried to ignore the fact that his ears were ringing with displeasure at the sound of her voice. When he remained silent and acted oblivious to her question, Macy continued on, even more agitated.

"I'm going out, Hunter! When I come back, I'll be expecting an _apology_ out of you!"

_Don't say anything; that always does the trick. _

Realizing she couldn't get a rise out of her stubborn boyfriend, Macy stormed out of the bedroom. Her loud footsteps on the staircase were audible throughout the entire house. At least Hunter didn't have to contain his amusement anymore. He laughed so hard it made his ribs ache upon hearing her slam the front door.

"Bitch," he muttered. Instantly, he reached for the remote on the nightstand and switched on the TV.

Absentmindedly, he flipped, through the channels one by one, smirking the whole time. Macy hated when he did that. It was one of the many habits of his that she hated. In fact, just a few weeks ago, she'd typed up a list of things she despised about him and even had the nerve to hand it him in person. She honestly thought providing him with this information would make him want to change for _her_! The whole situation was hilariously ridiculous.

Hunter wouldn't make the mistake of changing for women anymore – especially not one who he'd only been with for a year and a half. Technically, they'd been dating two years, but the first six months were pretty casual. God knows how or why it ever became anything more than that.

Oh yeah, because Hunter was a man and he had needs, too.

So with Macy being a damsel in distress after a break-up and Hunter just wanting some female company, the pair made it work. Kind of. They legitimately fought about everything, but the sex was just as heated as their arguments. So Hunter stuck around.

And now he found himself in the very predicament he swore he'd never get roped into again – a committed relationship.

But it wasn't the same this time. It wasn't like he'd put all his cards on the table with Macy. He always kept one foot in the door and one out with her. It was the way things had to be, for the sake of both his dignity and his sanity. The grueling travel schedule of the WWE had him on the road most days anyways, so it wasn't like he had to spend quality time with the bitch. If his occupation ever required him to stay home, surely he would have killed himself by now. Leave it to him to fetch a girlfriend with a massive ego and a mouth twice as large.

It was days like these where Hunter sort of missed…her.

No. He wasn't letting his mind drift away to that place anymore. That part of his life was dead and gone. He had Macy now. She was smoking hot and probably even hotter with her lips sewn together. Reminiscing about the past was one hundred percent unnecessary.

He shifted on the mattress to sit upright, but the pain returned to his swollen knee. A yelp-like noise was his way of coping.

"The privileges of being a professional wrestler," he muttered lowly. His hazel eyes fell upon the medicine capsules arranged on the nightstand. Grabbing the nearest one, he let out a chuckle. "Alright. Just this one time, but don't tell Mace…"

After swallowing two pills with a glass of water, Hunter sank back into the pillows and dozed off into the slumber his body had longed for all day.

* * *

Review and let me know what ya think...thoughts on Steph/Todd/Hunter/Macy?


	4. Frustrations

Oakland, California

Stephanie furiously typed away at the keyboard of her laptop as the words just came to her. The sooner she finished this article meant the sooner she could catch up on some shuteye. She certainly needed some; especially after her sleep was cruelly interrupted by the thunderstorm the night prior. How the hell was she supposed to drift off into dream world when there were bolts of lightning striking God knows what just outside her window? And what about the possibility of a flash food? Stephanie wasn't keen on the idea of drowning in her sleep, so she settled for the alternative of staying awake the entire night. And oh boy, did she pay for it today at work. Monday was always a bitch, but today…today was something way beyond that. The only thing that kept her from keeling over at any given moment was the unlimited supply of coffee in the cafeteria. She estimated that she'd consumed at least seven cups of the stuff – maybe even more.

"All done," Stephanie announced proudly.

She sent the document to the printer just on the other side of the bedroom and was satisfied at the sound of the machine shooting it out. Another job well done. Everyone at the office was likely to be more than pleased with this article. After all, she'd practically devoted the last three days of her life to writing it.

After retrieving the printed paper, Stephanie returned to her laptop to save the actual document, just in case something happened to the hard copy. As she browsed through the list of folders in search of the one labeled "work," something abnormal came to her attention.

"What in the world…"

She scrolled the screen to the right. It was something she never did, well because all of her files were accessible by moving the screen vertically. She'd never even noticed the damn option to see the right portion of the window and maybe there was a good reason for that. Because now she was lost in a world of her own confusion.

There was only one folder icon, mysteriously named "Apology."

_Apology?_ Apology to whom? And for what, may she ask? Maybe she'd misnamed one of her files or downloaded something from the internet accidentally. Both of those possibilities seemed fairly reasonable, like they could happen to anybody. Yes, of course.

Wait, why was she suddenly all freaked out about this? It was a damn computer file for Christ's sakes! And one that probably didn't even _belong _to her! _Just open it up, Steph. Stop stressing for nothing. _Reluctantly, she listened to the little voice in her head, which she assumed to be her conscious or maybe her gut instinct, and used the mouse to double-click the icon.

The room was filled with a muffled beep as a new window popped up on the screen. Shit. It was requesting that she enter a password to view the enclosed files. Well, wasn't that just dandy! Not only did she create some confidential file, but apparently she'd locked herself out of viewing it, too!

But instead of dwelling on her own stupidity, Stephanie attempted to guess the password herself, starting with all of her childhood pets' names to significant dates in her life. Birthday. Incorrect password. Graduation. Incorrect password. Date of first kiss. Incorrect password. What the hell else was there to guess? She wasn't creative with her passwords at all. Most of the time they consisted of a pet name and a number – or some random word, but surely one that would stick in her mind. This was insanity.

What was even more insane was the fact that she couldn't remember a damn thing about the folder, its contents, or the freaking password. She couldn't recall making it and she now figured out it probably contained many documents judging by the number of bytes that were displayed in the description.

Another beeping noise, this one a bit different than the other, broke Stephanie away from her thoughts. She closed out of the aggravating password window and clicked onto her e-mail screen. Her brother had sent her a message. It had been quite a while since she'd last heard from Shane to be honest. His out-of-the-blue e-mails were always pleasant surprises, but tonight all she could hope for was that Shane's message somehow contained the damn password to her file. The curiosity was eating her alive and it had only been ten minutes since she discovered the thing even existed.

Feeling the frustration resurface, Stephanie massaged her throbbing temples with her index fingers and opened the message from Shane.

The brief introductory paragraph was an update on Shane's life – his job, his wife Marissa, and his two little sons who were "growing like weeds" according to him. He said work has been stressful, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Their father was laying low on the antics as of late, which somehow always involved other family members and resulted in a wrestling match.

Due to lack of time and interest, Stephanie didn't follow wrestling like she did when she was a little girl without a care in the world. Way back then, it was entertaining and something she could relate to her dad with. It was innocent and fun. Nowadays, even switching to the channel for a few seconds came with the risk of watching her family make fools out of themselves. And quite honestly, Stephanie wasn't up for watching her dad make out with women a third his age, or her brother beating her dad to a bloody pulp. She failed to see the entertainment value in those scenarios. It just reminded her of how dysfunctional her family really was. And how she was damn relieved to be on the opposite side of the country from all that.

Continuing to skim through Shane's e-mail, one part stood out amongst the rest. Her brother said the show was touring on the West coast and had several California shows already booked. Then he subtly invited her to come to a few if she was up for it. And subtly was pretty much the only way to go, especially since Stephanie always declined her family's constant offers.

"I could just please them this one time…"

Maybe it wouldn't be such an awful thing. She could catch up with her brother, parents, and even those adorable nephews who she had yet to meet, but kept receiving photos of in the mail. Wrestling wasn't exactly her thing so to speak, but she would take the idea into consideration.

Her mouth widened as a silent yawn made its way out. Well, all considering would have to be delayed until morning because sleep was at the top of her priority list right now. She closed her computer and set it on the nightstand just to her left. She then yanked out the band that was holding her hair up in a tight ponytail. Immediately, her wavy, chestnut locks scattered in all directions. She sank back into the fluffy pillows, yawning loudly this time, and allowed her lids to close fully.

* * *

Greenwich, Connecticut

"_MACY!_ HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO TELL YOU TO KEEP YOUR DAMN CAT OUT OF MY STUFF?"

Curiously, the blonde padded across the carpet, toothbrush still in mouth and all, to see what had set off her boyfriend _this_ time. She loved Hunter to death, but between his short temper and frequent complaining, she was starting to lose her patience with him. And then he would get even more aggravated when she tried to correct his behavior. Well, sue her for trying to make him a better man.

Meanwhile, Hunter was fuming on his side of their shared walk-in closet. Macy's scrawny, little _thing_ had yet again chewed up another pair of his leather boots. And Hunter was beyond furious. Not only had she purchased the cat _without_ his permission, but she gave it the freedom to run amuck and cause havoc! And for some reason, the cat always targeted Hunter's belongings. He was almost positive this was part of one of Macy's revenge plots for his misbehavior, as she liked to dub it.

"What's the problem now, Hunt—whoops." Her eyes fell upon the torn leather scattered around their feet. Then her eyes moved to the shaking kitten in Hunter's arms.

"Yeah, 'whoops' is right. Keep this thing out of my shit, okay?" he snapped angrily. He passed off the filthy animal to his girlfriend before brushing at his shirt to remove the fur. God, why did she have to pick the filthiest of all animals on the planet? Quite honestly, Hunter would have been perfectly fine with a dog. Or a goldfish. Or a horse. Or a fucking man-eating shark! But leave it to Macy to drag home a _cat_ of all things. Stupid bitch. "Because if I catch it doing this again, I'm throwing it out into the streets!"

"Hunter!" Macy cried in horror. "You can't do that to Pepper! She's an innocent little baby…"

"Do I look like I give a shit?" He paused and gestured to his "I-don't-give-a-shit" facial expression. Macy continued to sulk with her bottom lip jutted out. "And if you can't handle having to get rid of that grimy cat, well then, maybe you should leave, too." He kept his tone calm and serious because that's what intimidated Macy the most. He could yell all he wanted to and cuss her out with the mouth of a sailor, and she wouldn't think anything of it. But once he clued her in that he was legitimately considering tossing her out, she began to stand a little taller and talk a little wiser. In other words, she was easy to manipulate. She feared abandonment and Hunter often worked that to his advantage.

"Fine. I'll buy Pepper a crate at the pet store today," she finally mumbled before making a silent exit. Sure it wasn't quite the response Hunter had anticipated, but it was better than letting the cat tread wherever it pleased at any time of day. Plus, it meant that he had won this battle. And Macy and her damn cat had lost. Hunter's eyes trailed back down to the leathery mess and he let out a groan. It appeared as if his boots lost this battle as well.

So far, this week was starting out shitty for him. Between the Macy drama and the mid-July rainstorms, all he wanted was to just collapse and check out of here for a little while. There was one thing he had to look forward to though: touring the West coast; where the sun always shone and the broads were as hot as the weather. On top of that, it was a place of refuge from his overbearing, melodramatic girlfriend.

But the tour was still an entire week away. Until then, he'd have to find some other way to stop from going stir crazy. He was running on empty here.

Shawn was in San Antonio with his wife and kids, probably at church or something. The other Sean was likely high on God knows what, making him a hazard just to be within ten feet of. Scott and Kev were constantly on the road wrestling for independent organizations; the last time Hunter had spoken to either of them was a lengthy two months ago. And he wasn't specifically friendly with any of his work colleagues, so that left him with basically no one.

Sometimes, however, Hunter would find a decent friend in Shane McMahon of all people. At the office or backstage, when there was no one in sight, the two would somehow always cross paths and end up chatting away about nothing in particular. Other than a few spats here and there over the years, Shane and Hunter were on good terms. They talked about sports, the business, told vintage wrestling stories…

But the one thing they never talked about was her.

And if Hunter hadn't been married to her for over two years, he probably wouldn't have known Shane had a sister at all. The guy didn't even acknowledge her existence anymore. It was understandable why he wouldn't want to mention her in front of Hunter, but he never even slipped and mistakenly said her name. It was bizarre. And the other McMahon's were the same exact way.

His mind was going there again; to that place he never wanted to explore.

No. Hunter didn't care where she was or if she even existed anymore. So he had to stop letting himself think he did. He didn't need her. What he really needed was some fresh air. Or…or someone to talk to.

And he knew just the person.


	5. The Ultimate Sin

Greenwich, Connecticut

"Dad, listen to me. This has been going on for way too long. We can't keep her away forever."

"I understand that, Shane." Vince paused to clear his throat. "But it's not like she's shown any interest in coming to one of the shows, so why even bother inviting her?"

"Because who the hell knows the next time she'll venture to Connecticut or anywhere on the East coast! If we don't make an effort to see her, well then we never will. What has it been…like four years since we last saw her?"

Vince scrunched his face in disbelief. Had it really been that long since he'd stood face to face with his only daughter? Four long years? Between all of the mayhem of the wrestling world and the stresses of corporate life, he'd hardly acknowledged her absence. Keeping in touch through technology was enough for him. As long as he knew she was safe, then Vince was satisfied. After all, her safety was the most important thing to him.

However, maybe Shane did state a good point about making an effort. If you can't lead the horse to water, bring water to the horse. They would just have to monitor her whereabouts at all times to ensure she didn't cross paths with any undesirables. There were too many wrestlers from the Attitude Era still lurking around; interaction with them would put Stephanie in grave danger.

"How do you propose we keep her away from…certain people?"

"Easy," Shane snorted. "We arrange for her to stay in a private locker room all night. Maybe Marissa will keep her company or something. Plus, you and I will be on hand just in case these certain people you speak of catch word that she's in the building."

"But Steph will obviously knows something's up if we isolate her for the night."

"Just make up some bullshit excuse that it's for her physical wellbeing," the younger man suggested carelessly. Vince nodded with pride at Shane's habit of taking every detail into account. He always had been an advocate of predetermined strategy.

"This actually might work," Vince murmured, still shifting through the worst case scenarios in his head. He looked up at Shane who was sprawled out on the office couch, absentmindedly scratching at his stomach. "There's one more thing – one more thing I need you to make sure of."

"Hit me."

"You make damn well sure that there is no chance…and I mean no chance _in hell_ of Helmsley getting anywhere remotely close to Stephanie. Do I make myself clear?"

Although they kept referring to the "certain people" in plural form, there was really only one man who needed to be kept away. That damn Hunter Hearst Helmsley. He was the cause of all the shit that had happened in their lives! And now that Stephanie finally had her life on track, Vince didn't need Helmsley screwing things up for her again. God knows how much agony it had put the entire family through to watch her fall into a depression after the divorce. Sooner or later it would've killed her, and the sick truth was that she would have been perfectly content with that fate. She would have rather died than live a life without Helmsley. That's why Vince had to step in and take action.

And Stephanie had come so far. She didn't know of the pain that she'd once felt, or the depression capable of cutting her life short. The WWE was unfamiliar to her, and the people she'd once known as colleagues were mere strangers in her mind. If that wasn't progress, then what was? But nothing in this world was permanent. It was quite possible that just the sight of her ex-husband would throw everything in reverse – and trigger recollection of those painful memories.

Vince couldn't let that happen. That was why he had to do everything in his power to prevent an encounter between the two. And since Shane was fixated on the idea of having Stephanie come to the show, maybe Vince could make it so Helmsley couldn't attend.

Because quite frankly, the WWE wasn't big enough for Triple H _and_ Stephanie McMahon. They had to learn that the hard way.

* * *

Oakland, California

Stephanie exhaled quietly before lightly tapping her fingers against the shut door. She wasn't too eager about seeing the person who would answer it.

"Steph!" Todd cheered, a bit too enthusiastically for her liking.

"Hello Todd."

"Oh, come on in, come on in!" he insisted, scooting aside so she could enter through the wooden doorframe. Uneasily, she tried her best to avoid physical contact with him while moving past his body. Her attempt was unsuccessful as her shoulder brushed against his. That was probably enough to arouse the creep to no end. She was just grateful that it was only their shoulders, rather than other body parts. Stephanie would have to call the paramedics just to revive the guy. "So what's up?" he asked tentatively once they were situated on opposite sides of his desk.

"Well, uh, actually, I need to take some time off next week," she admitted. Todd's eyebrows raised in shock. It was a common fact that she never actually used her vacation days, even when she was ill. And knowing the ever so nosy Todd, he was just itching to ask her why she needed to use them all of a sudden. Stephanie decided it would be easier to provide a short explanation herself to avoid subtle interrogation. "I have er, family coming in town."

"Family? Where from?"

"Connecticut."

"The other side of the country, huh?" Todd asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps they would like to visit the office one of the days they're here." Feeling like that sounded too pushy, he continued on. "You know, to see where you work and all."

"I appreciate the offer, Todd," she responded automatically. "But my parents are so busy and probably won't even have time for that. They'll be here for…business," she concluded. Well, technically it was a business of blood, sweat, and tears, but it was still a job nonetheless. She smoothed her black pencil skirt, mostly to dry her clammy hands. God, how come every time she entered Todd's office alone did she feel like she was about to be raped or something? Maybe it was the devilish glint of his brown eyes, or the way he made it a habit to lock the door behind them. A shiver shot down her spine.

"That's too bad. If something opens up, just send me an e-mail and I'll be sure to arrange something."

"Sounds good."

In all honesty, there was a zero percent chance of something like that even coming close to happening. First of all, she would never send him a personal e-mail in a million years. And second of all, why the hell would she bring her parents to meet him? They weren't dating for Christ's sakes. They weren't even friends, and Stephanie was still hesitant to consider him a work colleague. But she figured it was better to just agree to shut him up rather than trying to refuse the offer.

"I loved your article by the way, Steph. Very impressive work on your part. It's an honor to have you work for me."

"Thank you. That means a lot," she genuinely responded, taking it as a professional compliment and nothing more. Her job was everything to her, and it was always encouraging to know she was exceeding at it.

Stephanie watched curiously as Todd bent down to reach underneath his desk. When his face reappeared, he was wearing a goofy grin.

"I got you these," he paused to reveal a bouquet of multicolored flowers. "For your hard work." He held them out to Stephanie politely, but was utterly confused when she made no movement to accept them. She sat there frozen. Her eyes were wide and her skin was as pale as a ghost's. "Steph? Don't you want them?" Still, she remained motionless. "Are you alri…"

"I – I need to – to go," she responded quickly, gathering her belongings from the floor without wasting another second. She bolted for the door and fumbled with the lock. Once it opened, she hurried through the array of cubicles and headed straight for the elevators. She didn't bother to look back or even acknowledge the presence of bewildered co-workers.

Something was horribly wrong with her.

* * *

Greenwich, Connecticut

Shane walked through the familiar corridors of headquarters, greeting the occasional passerby. He needed space from his paranoid father right now. Vince's questioning sessions and lectures were driving him up a wall. What was the big deal about Stephanie coming to a live event anyways? This wasn't the year 2000 anymore. She wouldn't have to compete in the ring or even stand anywhere near ringside. She would just be another backstage visitor secluded from the on-air performers. In Shane's opinion, the whole situation would be harmless to her. She would view it as new experience and likelihood of old memories flooding back was rare. It was hard to relapse when she'd already made so much progress.

"Hey, Shane-O!"

Recognizing the deep voice, Shane turned round to see the blonde-haired man accelerating to catch up with him.

"Hey Hunter."

What a coincidence. It seemed that whenever Shane thought of his sister, Hunter would magically appear less than ten seconds later. Maybe he was a mind-reader or something.

"I went looking for you in your office earlier, but found your dad instead," he started, still trying to catch his breath. "Your old man said some shit about me taking time off and not going on the West coast tour." Hunter paused to snort, making his annoyance evident. "Do you know anything about this?"

Shane actually had no knowledge of this, but it certainly wasn't shocking. Vince was willing to go to extreme measures to keep Hunter and Stephanie from running into each other, even if it meant sidelining one of his main-eventers. But judging by the unhappy look on Hunter's face, that wasn't going to happen.

"No man, I don't. I'm sure Dad has his reasons though. Maybe you could just skip a few shows to please him. It might not be such a bad thing to let the injuries heal up a bit more," Shane suggested optimistically, gesturing to Hunter's knee. Everyone knew about his history of screwed up knees, and his nagging wounds seemed to be worse than ever now.

"Maybe under different circumstances, I'd accept the offer."

"What do you mean?"

Hunter grimaced. "What I mean is that my bitch of a girlfriend is driving me _insane_ and if I don't get at least a good thousand miles away from her, I'm going to claw out my eyes! That is, if her damn cat doesn't do it first!" At that last remark, Shane wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Don't ask, dude."

"Okay, okay. Just…" His voice trailed off as he worked a scheme in his head. "Let me deal with my dad. You just show up to where you need to be and I'll take care of the rest, alright?"

"Fine by me." Hunter breathed a sigh of relief.

Talking to Shane about this kind of stuff was easier than discussing it with Vince. Maybe it was because Shane was the more forgiving of the two. And from what he could tell, he wasn't bitter at all towards him. Vince, on the other hand, was still hanging on to a nasty grudge from the past. He would never forget the things that happened and he would never stop blaming Hunter for all of those things.

Leaning against the wall of the hallway, Hunter remembered why he came to Shane in the first place. He needed someone to talk to, someone with an open mind and an objective perspective.

"Shane, um, I need…advice."

"Advice?"

"Yeah," he admitted awkwardly. "You've met Macy, right?"

"Your girlfriend? The blonde girl?"

"Yeah, _her._"

"What about her?" Shane asked curiously. Hunter bit down on his bottom lip and focused on looking at everything but Shane. Once he gathered his thoughts, he resumed eye contact.

"Do you think….do you think she's good for me?" God, he probably sounded like some desperate love-struck idiot. That couldn't be further from the truth though. What Hunter really intended to mean was: did he deserve Macy? After all his sins in life, was Macy the only thing left for him?

"I guess, man. I mean, that's for you to decide," he answered, glancing down at his wristwatch quickly. "Look man, I've gotta go. We'll catch up another time, okay?"

"Whatever," Hunter muttered under his breath, long after Shane had scurried down the hall.

Well, that was completely pointless. Not only did he not get Shane's opinion, but he probably scared him off for good now that he'd brought up the topic of relationships. Because relationships equaled _her_, and God knows none of the McMahons' would dare to converse about her. It was as if saying her name…or even thinking it, was a dirty sin on its own.

And that's what Hunter acted like it was. All this time, he'd referred to her as…well, _her_. Even in the privacy of his own mind. But now he was done letting Vince rule his life and invade his thoughts. He looked around, relieved to see that the corridor was now vacant. If he kept his voice impossibly quiet, maybe he could get away with it.

He breathed in, breathed out, and then when he finally spoke, it was hardly a whisper – more like breathing out one word.

"Stephanie."

Hunter felt his nerves tense up as he once again looked to make sure no one had heard him. Or had seen his mouth move. The coast was clear. Nobody knew.

And like a shy schoolboy who'd just committed the ultimate sin, Hunter ran down the loengthy hallway without being seen.

* * *

Reviews = fast updates. :-) Plus, I'd love to hear your guys' thoughts.


	6. Arrivals

Los Angeles, California

They were shooting her weird looks; that much, she could tell.

But what she didn't know was, why? People she'd never even seen before were glaring at her as if she'd just murdered ten people. There was no other way of putting it. Maybe it was because she was Vince McMahon's daughter. How they knew that, well, she had no clue. Perhaps her father had photos of her framed on his desk or he talked about her to his employees. Whatever the reason behind the dirty looks was, Stephanie chose to ignore them, or at least tried to.

Her leather, lace-up boots clicked against the concrete floor of the arena. She didn't recognize any of these people. Frustrated, she kept her eyes open wide for Shane, but sighed when he wasn't anywhere in sight. So this was the treatment she got for arriving a half hour before she was supposed to. It wasn't her fault that she wanted to avoid the rush hour traffic during the drive from Oakland to Los Angeles. Sue her for trying to be on time to a family gathering for once!

She stomped down a random hallway, looking for some sign that would point her in the right direction. But her anger must have been less discreet than she'd thought. A blonde gentleman who was leaning against the wall approached her slowly. His short blonde locks were rebelliously spiked and his outfit screamed rock star. To top off the edgy look, he was wearing an amused smirk.

"Well if it isn't _Stephanie McMahon_!" he announced boldly.

Stephanie raised her eyebrows and backed away from him cautiously. How the hell did this guy know her name? And how dare he address her with such a rude, sarcastic tone! The way he said her name was almost…whiny, as if he was trying to mock her in some way.

"What do you want?"

However, a more appropriate question would have been, "who are you?" or "what the hell is your problem?"

"What do I want?" he chuckled arrogantly. "I just wanted to say hello to my favorite filthy…dirty…disgusting, brutal, bottom-fee…"

"Jericho, get the hell away from her!"

Stephanie turned around relieved to see that her older brother had come to the rescue. This Jericho guy was easily the biggest asshole she'd met in her life. And she worked for Todd, so that was a monumental statement.

"And big bro saves the day! Why am I not surprised?" Jericho spat, his shoulders still shaking with laughter.

"Watch yourself, Jericho. _This_," Shane paused to gesture towards Stephanie, "does not leave this conversation. Do you understand me?" The blonde man rolled his eyes dryly before nodding. Stephanie had no idea what Shane meant by not leaving the conversation, but she had faith that her brother knew how to deal with arrogant pricks like this. "Now go lace up your boots. You've got a match tonight."

"Goody, goody," Jericho muttered under his breath, before stumbling off in another direction.

"You okay?"

Stephanie looked to her brother who was standing with extended arms. "I'm fine," she assured him, as she embraced him tightly. It had been forever since her big brother had held her like this. And to say that she missed him dearly would be an understatement. "It's been so long, Shane," she whispered as they pulled apart. He kept his arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner.

"I know, Steph," he hushed, failing to hide his concern. She eyed him suspiciously as he turned his head in all directions. "Let's catch up…but not here. It's not safe. Follow me." She grabbed hold of his bicep, desperate to slow him down from their speedy pace.

"Wait! What do you mean it's not safe? You invited me here, didn't you? I mean, I'm not just gonna turn a corner and get jumped…right?"

"Stephanie. Breathe. You'll be fine," Shane promised her in a tone that she didn't perceive as being very convincing. How was she supposed to relax when she'd been here for a measly ten minutes and had already been targeted by some creep? Maybe she just naturally attracted them. "Can we just settle down in a locker room?"

She nodded to please her brother, but another thought occurred to her. Locker room? As in, steamy showers, naked men, and skimpy white towels? God, this was all so overwhelming. The last thing she needed was to feel trapped with a bunch of potential, Jericho-like creeps. How many people around here were like him anyways?

They walked rapidly through the building. Once it seemed like the number of people around them had died down, Stephanie tugged on Shane's shirt to get his attention.

"Yeah?"

"Who was that man, Shane?" she asked. "The guy you called Jericho?"

Stephanie watched Shane's expression flicker from focused to uneasy. Something around here was very fishy. She would've liked to think that she could get to the bottom of this, but that probably wouldn't happen. Not when the atmosphere seemed to resonate with secrecy. And even though she trusted her brother – or thought she could – he appeared jumpy about her being here. It was almost as if he was trying to hide her. He'd avoided eye contact with everyone on the way here and even dodged a few conversations with what she guessed were co-workers. Something just wasn't right.

"He's just some jerk. Ignore whatever it was he said to you. He's like that to everyone," Shane finally said. He shrugged as if it was no big deal, but Stephanie's instinct told her that it was.

"But he called me by my name. He called me Stephanie McMahon, and then proceeded to say I was his favorite filthy, dirty…I don't even remember the rest!" Well, add that to the list of other things she couldn't remember. "You don't think that's strange? Not even a little bit?"

Still, Shane remained adamant on the fact that this type of behavior was normal. He shook his head back and forth. "People are strange here, Steph. You'll find that out sooner than later."

"Not if you keep my hidden away all night."

"What?"

"You're dragging me away, right now. You won't let anyone talk to or see me aside from a quick glance. You claim it's safer to go to some random locker room. I'm no rocket scientist, but it sounds like you want to hide me away," she concluded. It was sort of getting on her nerves. She remembered Shane being overprotective, but this was outrageous. She was thirty years old for crying out loud. She didn't need her big brother directing traffic here.

"Why would you want to be out there in the open anyways? For arrogant pricks like Jericho to pester you and do God knows what else? Stephanie, trust me. It's safer where I'm taking you."

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed.

* * *

"Hunter! How many times do I have to tell you to be careful with my bags! If you break any of my stuff, you _will _be buying it!"

"Don't I buy your shit to begin with?"

Hunter groaned as he struggled to carry his girlfriend's bags – which probably weighed two tons – through the arena. Talk about high maintenance. Why the hell did she come along with him again? But of course, it was because Macy wasn't exactly a genius when it came to working the oven – or having common sense, for that matter.

Somehow, she'd managed to burn down the kitchen and half of the living room in a period of two fucking hours because she forgot about the food left on the stove during her bubble bath. How she didn't smell the smoke was a mystery of its own. But thank God…_thank God_ her fucking cat was unscathed. That was all Macy seemed to be concerned about anyways. Forget about the fact that they would probably have to buy a new house because it wasn't worth fixing this one. Forget about the fact that they'd lost a bunch of items with value. As long as the cat was okay, life would go on without a hitch. Fucking hallelujah!

And to think Hunter had been so thrilled to have time to himself – time away from Macy. For once, he wouldn't have had to put up with her nagging or female issues. But now she was practically glued to his side, and it would be this way for a good two weeks, if he didn't dump her off before then. Her voice was already burning holes in his ears.

"My God, it is _so_ hot! How do people even live here?" she complained. _Just pretend she isn't there. Tune her voice out_. "My skin already feels so dry! Hunter, find my lotion for me, will you?" _Oh my fucking God. Kill me now._ "Hunter? Are you even listening to me? I asked for my lotion and you're just standing there like a…"

"Would you shut the fuck up already?" he shouted, releasing his grip on her bags. They fell crashing to the floor with a strident thud. Macy's eyes widened in horror at the noise. He could literally sense the upcoming bitch fit she was about to throw. The only upside to the situation was that they were in a public place so it would have to be a watered down version of her normal bitch fit. Macy cared too much about her reputation to make that big of a scene.

"Hunter!" she screeched. "Pick them up! Don't just stand there! What the hell is your problem? Ever since we got to the airport this morning you've been in one of your foul moods! And you know what? I'm sick of it!"

"The airport?" Hunter snorted in disbelief. "You think this all started at the _airport_? This has been going for an entire year, Macy! Open your damn eyes! The world doesn't revolve around you, and you sure aren't the center of mine!"

There was a long pause before she spoke up again.

"You're not the man I fell in love with."

The pout on her saddened face made Hunter sick to his stomach. Love? Did she really think that was what this was? She was probably the second stupidest person on the face of the planet for thinking that. He'd ranked himself as the first for not getting rid of her a long time ago. _Love, my ass!_

"Just…just get away from me. And stay away," he warned lowly. "I have a match tonight, and I don't need you fucking with my head before I go out to that ring." He made an effort to keep his voice quieter, seeing that they already had an audience. The last thing he wanted was for one of his fellow wrestlers to find out about his rocky personal life problems and use them against him in some way.

"Well, if that's what you want, then I guess I'll just leave."

Hunter stood tall with an accomplished smile plastered on his face as he watched her turn around, carrying all her shit in tow.

Well, that was one less thing he had to worry about tonight. Now he just needed to meet up with Shane before Vince found out he'd arrived unannounced. That would be a lot easier without Macy present as a constant distraction. His ears were still ringing from her whining.

He was about to head off in search of Boy Wonder, but something kept him from doing so. He was frozen in his tracks at the peculiar feeling. A set of eyes. He could feel them watching him – staring at him wickedly. Curiously, he spun on his heel to face the source of the ominous stare.

"Jericho," he scoffed unimpressed by the failed attempt to play mind games.

"Helmsley," Jericho said in an equally as irritated tone. "Blondie didn't look too happy."

"Stay out of my fucking life."

"Whoa, whoa, man! No need to be so hostile! I was just making an observation; that's all."

"Well, I don't have time for your observations. Now if you'll excuse me, I have _real_ business to take care of," Hunter stated, already starting to pull away from the conversation.

"I'd be careful who you do business with, man. I mean, there's not only one – but two – bitches under one roof. You're bound to get screwed over in some way!"

What was Jericho getting at? Hunter wanted to dwell more on the two bitches remark, but he refused to fall for the bait. He was no fool, and he truly believed Jericho was just wasting his time. Therefore, he had no problem impolitely dismissing himself from the dialogue. He wasn't lying when he said there was real business to be taken care of.

Looking for a place to start, Hunter turned to a nearby security guard who was looking down at a clipboard. He seemed to be focused intently on whatever was in his hand, and it took Hunter a few moments to get his attention.

"Oh! Mr. Helmsley," the man acknowledged him, eyeing him up and down in shock. "I thought, er Mr. McMahon gave you the night off."

Upon hearing the guard's anxious tone, Hunter decided that something was definitely up. Vince clearly didn't want him at the show tonight, and damn it, he was going to find out why!

"Never mind him," he muttered. "Have you seen Shane around anywhere?"

"Can't say that I have." He was lying through his teeth. He just had to be. Irritably, Hunter gripped the collar of the man's polo shirt, and pulled him dangerously close. The man was now struggling to keep his balance as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"I repeat," Hunter hissed. "Where is Shane?"

"Um, um, down that hall, make a left, then make a right…um, he should be in the third room on the left…um, um…"

Hunter let go. The security guard stumbled to the concrete ground, but no one seemed to attend to him. Everyone's eyes were suspiciously fixated upon Hunter. They were sending him strange looks – almost as if they were trying to warn him about something.

Well, the only thing he needed to fear tonight was the wrath of Vince McMahon once he learned of Hunter's disobedience. Until then, he had another McMahon to meet up with.

Unbeknownst to Hunter, it probably wouldn't be the one who he was anticipating to see.

* * *

Ah, what the hell. This was finished, so I decided to post it. Keep more reviews coming guys! Steph and Hunter in the same building = here comes trouuuuuuble :-) mwahaha.


	7. Well, Hello There

This chapter's for McMahonHelmsleyEraFan, who deserves credit for some of this chapter's hilarity. You'll see what I mean. I decided to keep it short, simple, and to the point. Adding in more scenes would have taken the focus off of the 'main event.' Enjoy and review!

* * *

"So this journalist gig…does it make you good money?"

"Vince!" Linda reprimanded, slapping his bicep while shooting him a vicious stare at the same time. She then turned back to her daughter and smiled apologetically. "Honey, as long as you're happy with the job, then that's good enough for me. Money isn't everything, you know."

Stephanie forced an appreciative nod as she crossed one leg over the other. After chatting and catching up with her parents for nearly a half hour, she could now recollect why she yearned for space from them to begin with. Nothing she said seemed to live up to their expectations. Apparently Shane had never updated them with specific details of her life, or perhaps they had just forgotten. They were taken by surprise by most of her exposures. Her dad even commented that she would have made a decent doctor or lawyer. Clearly, he was implying that her current occupation was far from impressive.

"Now if you two will excuse me," her dad began, rising from the sofa, "I've got some business to take care of. Enjoy the show, now – from this locker room and nowhere else. Okay?"

"Sure, Dad."

Stephanie eyed him suspiciously as he exited the room and was cautious to click the door shut behind him. She was accustomed to everyone's over protectiveness by now, but it didn't mean she was enjoying it. Her family obviously dismissed the fact that this was _her_ home state and she'd lived here plenty long without them. Now they just came marching back into her life assuming they could call the shots. Well, she was prepared to prove to them all that she was an independent woman!

"Mom?" she started off sweetly. Her mother's eyes travelled up from her cell phone screen to meet with Stephanie's.

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm going for a stroll backstage. Do you need anything?" She stood up and headed for the door as she made the offer. If she couldn't persuade her mother, she'd just make a mad dash for it. Linda, too, instantly stood and held out her hands to yield her daughter.

"Honey, I don't think that would be such a good…"

"I'll be fine, Mom," she assured her. Sensing that Linda still wasn't convinced, she continued on. "Look, if it makes you happy, I won't talk to anybody or even stop long enough to be seen. I just need a little bit of breathing room."

Linda sighed. "Alright dear, but if you're father finds out…"

"He won't even know I'm gone."

"Be careful!" her mother hollered, as she allowed the door to swing closed.

Finally! While in reality it had only been an hour, it seemed like forever since Stephanie had some alone time. She couldn't imagine her parents living in the same state, or even on the same side of the country as her for that matter. Not unless she had a restraining order filed against them. God, they were even reluctant to let her use the restroom without aid!

She curiously walked through the dimmed corridors of the arena, taking in her surroundings as she did so. The whole production of the show itself was actually quite intriguing. She was in awe just seeing all of the crew, talent, and equipment. Everything had been supersized since she was a young girl wandering around backstage. Back then, everything was so little, including the wrestlers. Now nothing about this place was little. The muscle mass of some of these men was freaking ridiculous. And their egos surely weren't reserved either, judging by that Jericho asshole's snide remarks.

A bit more adjusted to the environment, Stephanie walked along with more confidence. Now that the vacant spaces were starting to fill up, she was less likely to be noticed – not that she even cared. But her father had some crazy scheme worked out in his head to cut her off entirely from all human contact. She was best not defying his orders. The guy could be a lunatic when he wanted to.

Before she knew it, Stephanie had stumbled backwards as a stack of papers went flying to the floor. She looked up, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, to see the man she'd knocked into. His long blonde strands were tied back into a tight ponytail and his hazel eyes were wide as he gawked at her. His massive stature was an easy indicator that the man was a wrestler.

"What the fuck…" he muttered under his breath.

"Oh my God. I'm _so_ sorry! I didn't even see where I was going! I was just um, so wrapped up in…" When realizing that the man wasn't even listening to her, Stephanie let her voice trail off. He was still staring at her with an unreadable expression. It was similar to the way Jericho looked at her, almost as if her were doing a double take. Or maybe this was just some silent, flirtatious attempt to make an advance on her. Well, if it was, she indeed liked it. Two could play at this game, though. Deciding to be a tad enticing herself, Stephanie batted her eyelashes and made her tone soft and sweet. "Well, hello there."

Nothing. She couldn't get a reaction out of him. And it was frustrating. Couldn't he just accept her apology so they could both move on with their day? It was a lot easier than just lingering around awkwardly, not uttering a word at all.

But when his lips finally did part to speak, what came out was not what she was anticipating.

"What _the fuck_ are you doing? What the _fuck_?"

Her eyes widened in bewilderment. So he went from being a mute to cursing at her? She said sorry for knocking into him…what was the big deal? If anything, he'd probably done more damage to her. Stephanie was a puny twig in contrast.

"Come again?"

"You…_you…_" he began, putting an emphasis on the word. With narrowed eyes, he wagged his finger at her in an accusatory fashion. "You're a…a no good, lying bitch! You're a dirty, little slut with no respect for vows and – and I thought I said I never wanted to see your filthy face ever again!"

Was this what her father and brother meant by keeping her away from undesirables? First Jericho, now this! Why did everyone despise her so much?

"What are you… I don't… This doesn't even make any…" Stephanie was unable to finish off any of her thoughts. Once again, that feeling of complete confusion resurfaced. One thing was for certain, though. One of them was mentally unstable. Whether it was the rude, blonde-haired Greek god or her, she couldn't tell. "You know, the people around here are just so… so _rude_!" she complained, flailing her arms in the air. It was the only conclusive thought she had.

The man scoffed.

"Look who's talking! I'd rather have the fucking cat eat a million more pairs of my shoes than waste another moment of my shitty life here with you!" After that, she swore he muttered something along the lines of "Go to fucking hell," under his breath but she wasn't entirely sure. He'd stormed off far too quickly in another direction.

Stephanie, on the other hand, was left dazed and confused as she stood there alone. The night had started off weird…and now things had just gotten much weirder. When Jericho had called her all those names, she'd taken Shane's word that he was just nasty to everyone. But now she'd stumbled upon a different stranger, and he'd spoken to her with such a bitter tone that you would think they had bad blood or something. She replayed the prior encounter in her head. Nothing really stuck out to her that would reveal why the man hated her so much. She sighed in defeat.

"I…I don't…I don't even have a cat."

But what she did have was an unknown past.


	8. Starting Somewhere

Overwhelmed.

That's precisely how he felt right now. Sure anger and shock played key roles in his emotional state, but they weren't the feelings in control. Hunter groaned as he covered his face with his palms and sat stiffly on the arm rest of the couch. His hands were damp with perspiration as he rubbed them against his cheeks. The room around him was spinning and nausea brewed in the pit of his stomach. He was familiar with the expression that the sight of someone could make you sick; he just never knew the meaning was literal. But apparently it was, because a few brief moments in her presence made him want to vomit like there was no tomorrow.

It was all coming together though. Vince's intention of keeping him off the show and out of California had become as clear as day. The old man was willing to go to great lengths to prevent their paths from crossing. Even though Hunter was originally adamant on being at RAW tonight, he was starting to regret that decision. His defiance had indeed backfired.

The image of Stephanie was still loitering around in his head. Appearance-wise, she hadn't changed much. She was still a tall brunette with pale blue eyes and a dimpled chin. That's why he had recognized her without difficulty. But what he didn't recognize was the look in her eyes. It was a look of hopeless confusion. She looked lost – almost innocent.

Well, if that was her attempt at starting fresh, she needed to find a new gimmick. Hunter was no fool; he knew damn well what she was trying to do. She was toying with his emotions. That was a habit of hers that would never change nor go away. She was trying to reel him back in until she had him exactly where she wanted him. Then, right as he would start to forgive her, Stephanie would screw him over. Just. Like. Before.

So it wasn't worth the gamble to even risk talking to her. She was a manipulative, sadistic woman. Hunter did what his instincts told him to do. He cursed her out, ensuring that she couldn't insert more than a few sentences into the conversation. Without a doubt she was left utterly bemused, but at least Hunter walked away with his heart in one piece.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

That was why Macy was the ideal girlfriend for him. Since Hunter felt no real fondness for her, there was no possible way he could get hurt. So whether she was there or not didn't matter much at all. If he woke up one morning and she had vanished, his arms wouldn't feel empty. The peculiar silence in the house wouldn't bother him one bit. The vacant parking spot in the garage would go about unnoticed. History wouldn't repeat itself.

But then why was he so overwhelmed?

Hating someone shouldn't be this hard. It was supposed to be second nature – like breathing and blinking. Yet it took him every ounce of strength in his power to walk away from Stephanie. If he was honest with himself, he'd admit that he wanted to stay. He wanted to drill her with questions. And he wanted answers in return.

It had been five years since he'd last seen her. Five damn long years. Now she decides to turn up out of nowhere and act is if their marriage never happened. As if when they'd stumbled upon each other, it was like they were meeting for the very first time.

Hunter's hazel eyes fell upon the wall clock. He could've detached himself from the real world all night in this locker room just to think about her. But his career was the first and foremost thing on his list of priorities. And if he could recall correctly, he had plans to meet up with Shane McMahon before his match, since Vince had no knowledge of his arrival. That was, unless, a certain someone had informed him already.

* * *

"Ugh!"

Linda McMahon watched her daughter with an inquisitive stare as she returned to the designated locker room. Stephanie was muttering incoherently under her breath as she paced in circles on the carpeted floor.

"Everything alright, dear?"

Stephanie paused in her tracks and took note of her mother's hesitant tone. If she knew the half of what just went down, perhaps she would have remained quiet altogether.

"No, Mom! Everything's not alright! It's just that…um…" She wiped her palms on her denim clad thighs as she gathered her thoughts. Maybe she was better off not spilling to her mother the whole truth of what happened. She was already being monitored to no end, and this incident would only intensify their supervision. "Dad's right. This really isn't the place for me."

Linda frowned and rose from the couch. "I'm sorry to hear that. Did something happen?"

The younger woman shook her head back and forth. "Nope." She'd aimed for her tone to come across as persuasive, but it was nothing of the sort. Instead, it sounded weak and feeble. "I guess the people around here are just…_different_ than what I'm used to."

Theoretically, it wasn't a lie. She just omitted the fact that the difference wasn't a pleasant one. Never in her life had she been profanely insulted for no apparent reason…and twice in one hour, for that matter. What were the odds?

When thinking about it, the odds were low. Almost too low to be a coincidence. After the first occurrence with Jericho, Stephanie had just gone on her brother's word that the guy was a natural jerk. Despite feeling a little skeptical about the incident, she was able to move on from it. There were just some people in the world that weren't socially skilled and Jericho was one of them. It was understandable.

But then it happened again. And this time, the man wore not a smirk, but a stare of vengeance and hatred. His tone was less playful. She could sense the genuine abhorrence radiating from his body with ease. Something about her irked the hell out of this guy and she was dying to know what. Was it even remotely possible to do something so spiteful and vindictive to a stranger, only to forget all about it? Well, Stephanie didn't know. It sounded too uncanny – like something that only happened in the movies. But bizarre situations came with even more bizarre explanations. And speaking of bizarre…

"Stephanie!"

"Hey Dad," she replied meekly.

He advanced towards her slowly, but drew back. Sensing the stress in her tone, Vince looked to his wife for some silent explanation as to why their daughter was lacking enthusiasm. Stephanie watched her parents retreat to the far corner of the locker room into a huddle-like formation. Their hushed whispers and muffled arguing were undoubtedly about her.

All Stephanie could do was stand there uneasily, chewing on her bottom lip. Hopefully her mother didn't bring up the fact that she'd wandered about backstage. Sure it had been a while, but her father certainly wouldn't have a problem lecturing her as if she were back in high school. She smirked to herself, trying to imagine what he would say in that infamous booming voice. _I told you it was dangerous out there, Stephanie. I told you to stay back here. But no. What do you do instead? You run amuck and get yourself into all sorts of trouble. How dare you defy me!_

Okay, maybe that last part was a bit farfetched, but she had to admit her impression of him was nearly spot-on. She sighed, realizing her parents were still engaged in their private discussion. Maybe she should just go over there for herself. It was the only way anything would draw to a conclusion. Subtly, she started to inch her way across the carpet. As their voices became more clear and audible, something her father said caused her to stop dead in her path.

_ "Does she remember?"_

Remember. It was a word she failed to know the meaning of nowadays. Because it seemed as if people knew things about her life that she herself had no knowledge of. There was so much secrecy around here and everyone but her was in on it. That included her parents. They had lowered their voices again, likely sensing her closeness. In that moment, everything started to piece together properly.

Her parents knew the reason – whatever it may be – behind her failure to recall the past.

As much as Stephanie craved to stay here and interrogate them for hours, she just couldn't. It wasn't that she feared them in any way, but rather felt uneasy. She barely knew these people and investing so much trust in them didn't feel right. She wasn't ready and willing to just open up about her personal issues in return for some explanation. Not yet, anyways. She needed time. Maybe all of this would eventually go away on its own. After all, it didn't serve as a nuisance until her eyes connected with that damn computer file. That's when things started to go downhill. And coming here tonight? Now she was plummeting straight for the bottom, with no brakes and no way of turning back.

Quietly, she slipped out of the locker room. Screw her curiosity. Right now, the only thing in her best interest was getting as far away from the arena as possible. She kept her footsteps deathly silent as she scurried down a random hallway. Her eyes were wide and alert, in desperate search for the nearest exit. The sound of someone clicking their tongue behind her was all too distracting though. She turned her body to face the noise and stepped back at the sight of him.

"Jericho," she muttered through gritted teeth. Stephanie was a bit taken aback by surprise at how natural her anger towards him felt. The cocky smirk plastered on his face only reinforced the urge she had to slap him with her bare hand. "What do you want?"

"Hmmm…what do I want?" he repeated, tapping his index finger against his chin in pretentious thought. "How about a raise…more paid vacation days…a title shot…_world domination_."

"You're hilarious," she snickered.

"I am hilarious. Thanks for the compliment, sweet cheeks!" Stephanie pulled away vigorously as he patted the side of her face. _Creep!_ "But what I really want…is to know what motivated you to come back."

"Back?"

Jericho nodded. "Yeah. Stephanie McMahon doesn't just show up somewhere without purpose. There's a motive behind every action. And that right there, is my burning question for you. What are you here for? Power? Money? _Revenge_?"

Stephanie shook her head back and forth immediately. Well, Jericho may have one burning question, but she had a million. Where exactly was she coming "back" from? And why was he claiming to know so much about her? And…and revenge against _who_? She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and shrugged desperately.

"I honestly…" She paused. "I haven't got a clue what you're talking about. Sorry." Jericho narrowed his eyes at her skeptically. She knew he didn't believe a damn word that left her mouth. But what more could she offer to him? Stephanie was being blatantly honest with him. "I'm not lying."

He scoffed. "A convincing liar, you are. But I've known you for far too long to take any of your statements for the truth."

"How – how long exactly?"

"I don't know," Jericho muttered. "Seven years or so?"

Stephanie let out a shaky breath. He might not trust her, but she definitely knew he was speaking honestly. They'd known each other a long time. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so upfront with her earlier. It didn't make his remarks to her acceptable, but justified them in some way.

The most sickening part about all of this was that Chris Jericho, a man who didn't seem to think too fondly of her, had been more truthful to her than her own family. In fact, he was the only person in the building who had proved to be of some help. Many of her questions were still unanswered, but she had to start somewhere. Now that she had confirmed the suspicion of her memory loss, the searching could begin.

Stephanie looked up at Jericho who was watching her with a confounded gaze. She owed him a big thank you for now. However, she was at a loss for words at the moment. Instead she closed the gap between them and threw her arms around his neck. _Ah, what the hell. _He didn't return the embrace. She sensed his utter confusion and dropped her arms to her sides. Without looking back, Stephanie disappeared down the dark corridor.

Jericho scratched the top of his head, still staring down at the concrete floor. "What in the world just happened…"

From the opposite end of the expansive hallway, Hunter wore a look of disgust and wondered the exact same thing.

_I should have known._

* * *

So judging from reviews and PMs, there's a lot of confusion about Stephanie and why she doesn't recognize Hunter, yet she wrote him the letters at the beginning. To clear that up, the letters were written _before _she forgot everything. Well technically, she only forgot some things, but I don't want to give too much away. What exactly happened to make her forget will (hopefully) be revealed in a few more chapters. Until then, I'd love to hear your speculations/thoughts!


	9. Realization

Hunter walked rapidly through the arena, shoving anyone who dared to block his path. He was in no mood to deal with people. Technically he preferred to avoid people altogether, but tonight he carried that out to a greater extent. So far, a few security guards and crew members had already felt his violent wrath at firsthand. Once news of those incidents spread, everyone else became well alert of his foul mood and had enough common sense to steer clear of the feared Triple H. Well, mostly everyone.

"Hunter!"

_Dear God. Not again. _

"Hunter! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you, babe," the shrill voice called from behind him. He came to a halt, something he would undoubtedly regret, and turned to face the perky blonde. A low sigh escaped his lips as she approached him.

"Macy," he groaned. "I thought I got rid – I mean, I thought you left like an hour ago." Much to his irritation, his girlfriend pinched his right cheek and shook her head from side to side. He shoved her hand away from his face before she spoke.

"I didn't leave for good, silly! I just went to check on Pepper in the hotel room. She seemed lonely, and you sounded like you needed time to calm your temper. And now, here I am!"

"Great," he replied tediously, adding in a sarcastic eye roll as her eyes travelled elsewhere. _I swear if she mentions that fucking cat one more time…_

"So anything exciting happening tonight, baby?"

"No."

He wasted no time in responding.

Hunter decided it wasn't necessary to inform her that his ex-wife turned up out of the blue. Because that would require him informing Macy that he was once upon a time married, in a life that seemed like it was forever ago. Another life. Because if he was certain of anything, it was that a part of him died five years ago. Bringing up Stephanie to Macy seemed irrelevant. If anything, it would only lead to an argument. And it wasn't like she would find out on her own. Everybody around this damn place acted as if the marital union of Stephanie McMahon and Hunter Hearst Helmsley never happened – including his gracious ex-wife herself. Was it possible that their marriage was merely a figment of his imagination? Maybe so. But perhaps Stephanie was acting so strangely as some type of female pride thing. He wouldn't put it past her that she had something up her sleeve; she was just waiting for the right moment to ruin him.

The estranged couple walked absentmindedly in no specific direction. He felt Macy link her fingers through his. If this was her silent apology for acting like a brat earlier on, well, he wasn't dishing out forgiveness. She was no better than Stephanie at times.

Stephanie. God, it all shot back to her. Suddenly his brain was clouded with the image of her hugging that jackass, Jericho. Of all people, really! For years, Y2J was her worst nightmare. Her unmistakable nemesis. He'd called her the dirtiest of names and she made his life a living hell through the power that was her birthright. They had never gotten along whatsoever. Even when Stephanie aligned herself with him after the pregnancy lie came to light, they still hated each other. Their ways of showing it were more subtle, but the tension still existed. After Jericho lost the undisputed title at WrestleMania, Stephanie went berserk. Hunter had witnessed it personally backstage. She threw one of her infamous tantrums as Jericho flinched back in fear. By some miracle though, they were able to hold it together for another week, until she was forced to leave the company on RAW. Hunter's lips upturned into a smile at the memory. He had dragged her by the hair to the mat and pinned her, before leading the crowd in chanting a much anticipated farewell.

At the time being, Hunter couldn't be more ecstatic. The evil, vindictive Stephanie McMahon was out of his life for good. Not only had she moved out of their house, but he wouldn't have to bear seeing her at work anymore.

The happiness proved to only temporary, though. It wasn't until the next day that the reality of what was going to happen settled in.

It was a Tuesday. Hunter had been at headquarters conversing about promotional dates with some company officials. He was able to dodge the McMahons' for the most part. However, just as he was about to leave and head home, something…drew him to her office. Through most of the previous night, he lied awake in bed trying to figure out where they went from here. He was actually skeptical of whether Stephanie would keep her word to its full extent. He assumed she would just get some corporate job for her dad and stay under the radar. What he wasn't expecting was for her to pack up and leave for good.

_The boxes everywhere made matters pretty clear. She was leaving. She was packing up her shit and leaving. Hunter stared at the door to her office inquisitively. It was ajar, and he could literally hear her inside rearranging boxes. _

_Why in the hell was he doing this? He had won, hadn't he? There was no reason for him to be here, almost feeling remorseful. Stephanie had brought this upon herself. She was the one who lied. She was the one who acted like a selfish princess. She was the one who manipulated his emotions. The only mistake he had made was buying into her deception. _

_But they were married. They were still married. They might not wear rings or even reside together, but legally nothing had changed. Would it really be wrong of him to at least say goodbye before she moved on to God knows what? Hunter chewed his lip as he approached the door. No, it wouldn't be wrong. He had every damn right to see her once more before fate carried them in different directions._

_He leaned against the doorframe casually. Stephanie was kneeling on the floor, clearing out the bottom drawers of her desk and emptying its contents into a box. She didn't seem to notice his presence. Her facial expression was unreadable, but she seemed focused. To get her attention, Hunter cleared his throat. She looked up without hesitating. Her pale blue eyes fell upon his face briefly before they returned to what they were doing previously. Hunter scoffed and invited himself inside, shutting the door behind him. So she was giving him the silent treatment. That was to be expected. In fact, immaturity was all her could expect out of her nowadays._

_He sat down on the leather sofa beside her desk, not breaking his gaze away from her face. Hunter felt obligated to say something to her, but wasn't sure what exactly. Their nearly over relationship needed some sense of closure. He'd just never been in this position before. Desperately, he started off with the first thing that came to his mind. _

_"This is so typical of you," he began. "Not talking to me even though I did nothing wrong. The only one you have to blame is yourself, Stephanie."_

_She remained silent. But she wasn't packing her things anymore, so he knew he had her undivided attention. _

_"But a part of me is glad that you lied – you know, just to get the whole break-up over with." What in the hell was he doing? Hunter didn't know what came over him as he spoke. Of course he wasn't pleased that she lied to him about something so serious like a pregnancy. He continued to rant nevertheless. He wanted to be angry with her so badly. He just wished it would come naturally. "We've been going downhill for a while now. People were right about us, you know. We never would have made it. We come from different worlds."_

_"Different worlds?" _

_Relief washed over him upon hearing her snicker. "She speaks," he murmured. At that, Stephanie made it to her feet, and quite vigorously, if he must add._

_"Coming from 'different worlds' has nothing to do with any of this! People beat the odds all the time," she explained. _

_"Then you tell me what exactly killed our marriage."_

_Hunter wished the answer was simple. Despite wanting to believe that the fake pregnancy singlehandedly ruined them, it just wasn't possible. Not when he knew that there were so many other contributors to their downfall. At times, he'd questioned her faithfulness to him, and vice versa. Stephanie said things to him that wounded his heart. She didn't know how capable she was of breaking him. But she'd done an excellent job in the end._

_"We're bad people, Hunter!" She flailed her hands in the air as if it was obvious. Sure he was aware of their wicked ways, but what did that have to do with their love life? Plotting evil schemes was one thing they thoroughly enjoyed partaking in together. "I'm a bitch. You're an asshole. It's as simple as that."_

_Hunter now rose from the couch to join her in standing. His eyes narrowed at her. "You say that as if it's something I don't already know."_

_"Don't you see, Hunter?" she cried. "Our relationship was never about love! It was about you doing something to make me irate and then me getting even. We pushed each other so hard. Did the things we did seem minor at the time? Yeah. We would eventually make up and all was well, but it never lasted! I began to wonder whether our banter was really playful at all. Or if our sex was just a way to see who could make the other scream louder, solely for competitive purposes." Stephanie paused and stared down at the carpet. "We pushed each other…so hard, until we both fell down and neither one of us was willing to get up. And then…well, you know the rest."_

_"You're so wrong, Stephanie." Hunter shook his head disapprovingly. Somewhere in that warped mind of hers, she thought this was about pushing each other's buttons. "You don't know what you're talking about. I was so good to you, Steph! I sacrificed everything for you."_

_"Oh sacrifice, my ass!"_

_"And then this is the treatment I get!" Hunter shouted, minimizing the space between them. He wasn't sure whether the heat he felt was coming from his body or hers. Or possibly both. _

_"The only thing you 'sacrificed' was me. You gave me up for your career. When things turned to shit, you removed yourself from the situation." Her blue eyes were now dark and fierce. She was burning a hole through him with her vicious stare. Her next words would burn him even more though. "Quite frankly, I feel like you left me long before February 11th." _

_Hunter folded his arms over his chest. "Bullshit!" he disagreed. "If anything, I stuck around for too long. You acted like a princess and sure as hell didn't give a damn about me. As long as your life was well, then everything was well…"_

_"How could my life be well when our marriage was crumbling to pieces?"_

_"I'm not finished talking. Don't fucking interrupt me," he warned, pointing at her with his index finger. Stephanie's expression went blank. She subtly inched away from him. "I could go on and on about how you've been the worst wife…ever. But the mere thought of staying here with you for another five minutes sickens me. So I'll keep this short and to-the-point." He exhaled and despite the sadness in her eyes, Hunter parted his lips to speak again. "I don't love you, Steph. I don't want to see you ever again. I pray to God that I'll never have to. Try not to fuck up your life too much."_

_Hunter spun on his heel, satisfied with the way their final conversation went. Stephanie thought this was about winning, so that's just what he did. As he reached for the doorknob, he glanced back once more as a subconscious habit. What he saw shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. Her glossy, tear-filled eyes should have made him feel victorious. _

_But they didn't. _

* * *

"Er, let me call you back."

Shane McMahon shut his phone and reluctantly met eyes with the six-foot-four wrestler taking up a good deal of space in his office. His arms were crossed over his chest and quite honestly, he looked pissed. It had to be something Vince did. Maybe he went all psychotic and made some irrational handicap match.

"Hunter. What's up?"

"Cut the crap, Shane. You know what's up," he seethed through gritted teeth.

Shane sighed. Somehow, he'd been awarded the role of peacemaker in the family. Despite his hotheadedness, he was a rational thinker and the most liked McMahon. "Look, if my father put you in a handicap match, you have nothing to wor…"

"This concerns your father in no way whatsoever," Hunter interjected. Running his fingertips through his short, dark strands, Shane arched an eyebrow at him curiously.

"It doesn't?"

"You seem confused – like you have no idea what's going on here," he taunted with evident sarcasm in his tone. "I guess it runs in the family, huh?"

"What are you ta…" Shane stopped himself midsentence. Shit. No further explanation was needed to fill him in on what must have happened. Hunter had a run-in with his ex-wife, who just happened to be his own sister. As expected, it set Hunter off. The only comforting fact was that he said she was confused. Which meant she didn't remember him – yet. For the sake of her wellbeing, the family just had to pray nothing would jog her memory.

"Tell me what she's doing here."

Shane ignored the question and dove right into his own concerns. "You can't say anything about this, Hunter. Especially not to my dad. And…and stay away from Steph! She's better off without you. Believe me."

Hunter didn't move one bit, but simply repeated his prior statement. "Tell me what she's doing here."

Shane paced in a small circle on the rug. The fact that Hunter was taking interest in Stephanie was something to fear. It meant he still cared for her, or at least about her. It wouldn't be long before that caring turned into something more. It had happened once, right? Shane had to stop this at once, for her sake.

A voice drew him away from his thoughts. And it wasn't Hunter's.

"Shane, I'm really sorry, but I have to…" Stephanie. She couldn't have picked a worse time to barge in unannounced. As she fully emerged into the office, a dead silence overcame the trio. A tense gaze was shared between the former spouses. "You."

Shane quickly positioned himself in between the two, ready to break up any dispute before things got out of hand. He placed a hand on his sister's shoulder and prepared to reason with her. He had to be careful what he said around her. He also had to take in account that anything Hunter said could set off switch.

"Steph, maybe you could come back another time?"

Her blue eyes remained fixated on the man behind Shane. "You called me a bitch."

"You lied to me about…"

Shane threw himself in front of Hunter, desperately trying to shut him up by covering his mouth with a hand. His next sentence came out barely as a whisper. "Keep your mouth shut, and the title shot is yours." Even though Hunter didn't break his focus from Stephanie, he was contemplating the proposition.

"Done."

The brunette just looked between the two men in bewilderment. She shifted her attention towards Hunter again.

"You've got some nerve calling me a bitch when I've done nothing to you to deserve that type of treatment. I don't even know your name for God's sakes! Yet the second we meet, you already hate me." She paused and looked to Shane, who was mentally slapping himself for letting her say that much. Hunter's eyes were wide with curiosity at what she'd just revealed. "I've gotta go. Bye, Shane." Her eyes met with Hunter's briefly before exiting through the door.

Once they were alone again, Shane turned around to face the man he least wanted to. They were both thinking the same thing, only Hunter didn't know the inside scoop.

"She doesn't remember me," he whispered in amazement.

"Dude," Shane began with a sigh. "She doesn't remember a damn thing."


	10. Friends?

Thanks so much to everyone who's been reviewing this fic. Although I'd love to hear from the other lurkers who are following but not reviewing the story. This chapter's for you guys, in hopes of getting a comment out of you!

Also, I'd like to apologize to Erica beforehand, due to the absence of the cat in this chapter. LOL

Enjoy!

* * *

Oakland, California

Stephanie absentmindedly tapped the end of her pen against the desk. The movement created the only noise that filled the small office. Although making the abrupt decision to return to work before her brief leave of absence came to an end, she couldn't seem to focus. The current article she'd been assigned to write was the last thing on her mind. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Her eyes trailed to the tile floor, then the window. She just needed to be away from everything. To check out, just long enough to regain some sanity.

"Knock, knock!"

Her head snapped up at the familiar voice. Standing at the entrance to her office – where her door should have been closed – was none other than Todd. His dark brown strands were slicked back with gel and the grin that adorned his goofy face was too enthusiastic for her liking. She rose from her seat nonetheless, sending him a phony smile. She noticed his hands out in front of him. They were empty, thank God. Flowers were definitely not on her agenda for the day.

"I would have knocked for real, but I figured that since you and I are so close now, you wouldn't mind me slipping in for a few moments."

Stephanie inadvertently sighed. Would she ever catch a damn break? When she wasn't avoiding her bizarre family or trying to come to grips with her identity, she had this idiot to deal with. When he wasn't pleading for a date with her, he made up for it with his desperate flirtation. _I guess some guys will never get the message_.

"So what's up, then?" she asked to break the silence. Todd looked down at the floor briefly before letting his eyes travel back to her face. But she was no fool. She saw him eyeing her up, practically drooling out of the corner of his mouth.

"As much as I'd love to catch up, I came in here to inform you that you have a…um, visitor waiting in the lobby for you." Stephanie's blue orbs flickered with curiosity. She was hardly aware of the fact that her boss started talking again. "But while we're on the topic of catching up, maybe we could do lunch today because I know this really nice place with…"

"Who is it?"

Todd's brow crinkled. His face reddened with embarrassment. Stephanie obviously wasn't paying him any attention whatsoever.

"I don't know," he mumbled with a shrug. "Just some guy who said he was looking for you. Apparently, you guys 'need to talk.' Seemed like a jackass, but that's just my opinion."

Ignoring his little remark, Stephanie headed for the door, but stopped herself as a thought occurred to her. "It's not my dad, is it?"

God, if her father was here she might as well call to make her own funeral arrangements now. It was bad enough that he reprimanded her like a child at his job, but hers? She wanted to keel over and die at the thought. At the arena the other night, Vince had made himself pretty clear on where he stood regarding Stephanie's occupation. And he was not a fan. Apparently, he had higher hopes for his only daughter. He had thrown out careers such as doctor or lawyer, claiming that hers paled in comparison. According to him, being a journalist wouldn't secure her financially. Well, screw money. She was happy and that was all that mattered. It may not have been her top career choice, but it was better than putting herself out on television every week only to bring humiliation to the family name.

"If I had to guess, I'd say no. He's too young."

Stephanie mustered a one-sided smile. "Well…thanks." She pushed past a frustrated Todd and headed straight for the lobby.

Now that she had eliminated the possibility that it was her father, it could without doubt be anyone at this point. Not that she ever got random visitors, but it could happen. For all she knew maybe it was a stranger off the street, here to return a dropped belonging or something. She exhaled with full force as she walked down the corridor, her heels clicking against the floor at a rapid pace. Anybody. It could be anybody.

For no apparent reason, her eyes travelled downwards. Only then did she realize that her hands were shaking uncontrollably. The movement was involuntary – out of her control. This had been happening quite often lately. Something about being in the same state as her family created some sort of anxiety within her. Whenever they were present, she felt so lost and confused, as if a part of her memory had vanished. And that scared her, more than anyone would ever know.

As she reached the lobby, she kept her eyes fixated on her hands. She almost didn't want to know who was here for her. But she felt eyes on her. Coming from all directions, too. People were staring. They thought she was crazy. They weren't wrong. So she did the first thing her instinct told her to do. She shut her eyes, so tight that all she could see was black. Black. She focused on the color. Technically black wasn't a color, but whatever.

"Steph?"

That voice. It was so familiar. Of course she knew who it was right away. But the recognition went beyond their encounter last week. She felt like she had heard the voice a long time ago. In another life, perhaps. Only unlike last week, it didn't sound angry or distraught. It was gentle. Almost sweet.

Her eyelids fluttered open softly. He was so close. His face, a mere foot away from hers. His soft blonde locks hung loose around his broad shoulders. His eyes were lighter now, too. They were somewhere between gold and green. But the sincere concern in them left Stephanie slightly perplexed. Still, she remained motionless. She wanted him to make the first move. But it appeared as if Triple H – if she recalled correctly – was playing the same game as her.

"Say something," he urged quietly.

Her eyebrows raised. "You want me to speak?" she scoffed. "What, you don't want to curse me out again? You don't want to tell me what you really think of me? Oh, I believe the phrase you used last time was a 'no good lying bitch,' but don't quote me on that." She clicked her tongue and inched away from him. His scent was intoxicating. She would let nothing would break her focus. She wanted to ensure that he never came face to face with her again.

"Look, Steph…"

"It's Stephanie, actually," she interjected.

Hunter stared at the smirking brunette in disbelief. Was she serious right now? He came here to apologize, to be the bigger person, and now she had the audacity to start pulling her princess shit? God, he wanted so badly to give her a piece of his mind. She sure as hell deserved it.

"You know what?" _Don't do it. She's still riled up about the other night. Just make peace with her at the very least. Angry McMahon equals an eternity of living hell._ "Look, _Stephanie_. Can we talk somewhere more, I don't know, private?" He gestured to the people lingering around them. While some were genuinely doing their jobs, others were just sticking around to watch the drama unfold. And if Hunter had learned anything from their marriage, it was that problems didn't get solved in front of an audience. He watched Stephanie's face flicker with consideration. She bit down on her bottom lip.

"Fine. But," she began with emphasis on the word. "I'm giving you five minutes. No more than that. Say what you want, then leave, or I'm calling security."

When Stephanie turned around to lead them back to her office, a small smile formed on Hunter's lips. Even though her hair was pin straight and she wore classy business suits now, some of her qualities failed to change. It gave him hope that once they got talking, he would eventually get through to her. Then he remembered the promise he made to himself:

That he would never let any woman – Stephanie McMahon especially – back into his heart.

* * *

"Your five minutes starts now. Go."

Hunter shifted in the office chair, watching as Stephanie started the timer on her phone. Her lips pressed together slightly before she looked up at him expectantly.

"Four minutes and fifty seconds," she chirped.

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. Where do I begin?" Her lips parted to speak, but he cut her off instantly. "And don't tell me that the beginning is usually a good place to start. I know how that mind of yours works, McMahon." Now her blue orbs widened in disbelief. He rubbed his palms together nervously. "Sorry. You just say that to me a lot. Or used to." Another mental slap to the face. He wouldn't be shocked if she called security before his time was up. He just kept forgetting that she didn't remember him, for whatever reason, he was still unsure. He had to be more cognizant. "This isn't going well, is it?"

Stephanie chuckled. "Not really, no."

"God, there's just so much I need to say to you, but I…can't."

"We agreed to a no holds barred conversation. If you need to call me a bitch again, by all means, go for it. I won't have security escort you out."

Hunter flashed her a lopsided smile. Already, she appeared to be more comfortable around him. That was a good sign. For them both.

"That's not what I mean."

Suddenly, Stephanie wished that the desk between them was non-existent. She wanted to be closer to him. She wanted the smell of his cologne to delight her senses like before in the lobby. She longed to be in his arms. They looked so strong and muscular judging by the white t-shirt straining around him bicep. She guessed that his skin was warm, and soft to touch, too. Unable to restrain herself, Stephanie leaned forward a bit over the desk, losing herself in those wondrous hazel eyes of his.

"Are you, er okay?"

She snapped out of it, straightening her back immediately. She awkwardly cleared her throat and prayed that he didn't notice the blush staining her cheeks. "I'm…um…fine. Thanks."

"You know, I might as well just come out and say it, Steph. Stephanie. Or whatever it is you want me to call you." Her pale blue eyes stared at him intently as he spoke. "We know each other. Well, we did a few years back. You dropped off the face of the planet. Then you show up at one of the shows and when I saw you I was…"

"Surprised?"

"Exactly. And when we last saw each other, we weren't on the best of terms."

"So you called me a bitch," Stephanie concluded, narrowing her eyes at the man in front of her.

"Yeah…well, sorry about that," he added sheepishly. "But you don't remember anything so you thought I was attacking you without justification."

Hunter wiped the backsides of his hands against his denim clad thighs. Stephanie broke her gaze away from him and allowed her eyes to wander off into space. She stayed silent, her bottom lip trembling the slightest bit. After watching her for a while, Hunter ultimately dubbed the look in her eyes as sadness. Per habit, he reached out to touch her upturned palm on the desk. Her eyes returned to his face.

"Why is that, Hunter?"

It was fortunate for him that he was seated, or else he surely would have keeled over. The way she said his name made his knees terribly weak.

"Why can't I remember anything?"

At that moment, he felt sympathy towards her. Even though she'd basically ruined his life, she was still a person. A person who had been unrightfully robbed of her memory.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Have you tried therapy or something?"

She shook her head sadly. "It hasn't been an issue until now."

"What do you mean?" he inquired.

"Because I remember most things, Hunter. My family, my childhood, school, college, all that stuff… It's just the whole wrestling thing that throws me off. You in particular." Stephanie sighed. Her phone beeped, signaling the end of the five minutes. Instead of dismissing him, she knocked the phone to the floor, relieved when it went silent. "I look at you and I don't even know. Sometimes you seem so familiar to me. And then other times, I draw a blank. I struggle to even remember your name. It's so frustrating. And, and maybe I'm just crazy."

"You're not crazy."

"Then why do I feel like it all the time?"

Hunter brought up his other hand and brushed his thumb against her dimpled chin. Ten minutes ago, he may not have trusted her or even liked her. But now? Now he was even more confused than before, if that was possible. And he wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing. Stephanie McMahon had screwed him over. Yet here she was silently pleading for his help with her blue-eyed stare.

"Everything will be…" He paused to search for the right word. "…okay."

He leaned even further over the mahogany desk, until her warm breath invaded his senses, driving him absolutely nuts. His nerves tingled with anticipation. _Oh, fuck it!_ He was going to kiss her. His lips were practically being pulled by some magnetic force to hers. She probably tasted so good. Kissing her was like kissing no other woman. Not even Macy. _Shit. Macy! Wait. I hate her? _

"Is everything okay in here?"

Stephanie rose from the chair vigorously, obviously as flustered as he was, and approached the voice. Hunter groaned under his breath, silently cursing their intruder. He was so fucking close. One more second, and their mouths would have been fused in a passionate, tender kiss. Now the chance may never present itself again.

"Everything's fine, Todd," he heard Stephanie say in a hurried tone.

Todd. So that was the asshole's name. He was the same prick from the office lobby who claimed that Stephanie didn't meet with visitors unless they scheduled an appointment. Well appointment, his ass! Something about the guy made him want to punch his lights out. Maybe it was the way he was gawking at Stephanie, virtually salivating at the sight of her.

"You sure?" Todd eyed Hunter from bottom to top. He then turned to Stephanie with what Hunter dubbed as fake concern. "He's not bothering you, is he?"

It would have been so easy for her to say yes, to rid of the evil Triple H for good. But she didn't. Instead, she shook her head and sent him a warm glance. She knew deep down that she needed him. He quite possibly could be the only person able to help her get to the bottom of this. She needed him. And Hunter would be kidding himself if he claimed that he didn't need her.

"Not at all. Hunter's my friend."

"But you guys are _just_ friends, right?" Todd asked, a little too possessively.

"We're just friends," Stephanie repeated dryly, merely to satisfy the little prick. Hunter didn't bother to muffle his snort as Todd exited the office. He decided against teasing her about lover boy. He didn't want to screw things up. Not yet anyways. He could use Stephanie not remembering things to his advantage. It would be like starting fresh, only this time he wouldn't let her all the way in. He wouldn't put himself in that same vulnerable position. And who knows, maybe this was the way things were meant to be between them.

"So we're friends, huh?"

Stephanie flipped her hair over one shoulder and returned to her chair. She chewed on her bottom lip before flashing one of her infamous smirks. Hunter chuckled. Their relationship – whatever that was now – surpassed being screwed up.

"I guess so."


	11. Red

Hunter groaned as he reached the door, vigorously digging through his pocket for the key card. He could already hear Macy inside, babbling away on the phone. He actually pitied whoever was on the other end. Her voice was unbearable, especially when she was distraught about something. He guessed she was complaining to one of her college friends about the recent hitch in their relationship. Of course, she would probably omit the details she viewed as being irrelevant. Like her constant whining and that evil cat she was inclined to fuss over.

His arrival in the room triggered the ending of the phone call. She sat up straight on the bed, flashing him a meek smile.

"Hey."

Carelessly setting down his duffel back on the floor, Hunter mumbled a greeting under his breath. In all honesty, it didn't matter to him whether it was audible or not. Looking at Macy now though, he felt different about her. Darker hair; that's what she needed. Specifically a shade in the chestnut family. Her eyes needed to be bluer. And her smile warmer. Then maybe he could love her the way she longed to be loved, the way all women did. Her fantasies would cease to be merely figments of the imagination. He could love her for real.

If only she were somebody else.

"Where were you?" she questioned, breaking him away from his thoughts. The simple question annoyed him more than it should have. Her curiosity seemed more like an interrogation. Recently, her faith in him had diminished, being replaced by amplified suspicion.

In Hunter's mind, all of it was complete bullshit. He had never cheated on her before, so she wasn't justified to infer it from his peculiar actions lately. The cause of his reluctance to be around was Macy herself. She was too overbearing and nagging. He had even told her that, point blank. If she still wasn't seeing the bigger picture, she never would.

Finally he provided her with an answer. Not a detailed one, but one that he felt she was worthy of hearing.

"Out."

"Obviously," Macy muttered, rolling her eyes impatiently. "Where were you?"

_Oh goody, another question. _He buried his face in his hands, trying to keep his temper in check. The armrest of the loveseat felt his wrath as he gripped it tightly, making an attempt to sturdy himself. In his condition, a fight was the last thing he wanted right now, although it was bound to break out. Physical drainage was the least of his hardships. Mental exhaustion would kill him before a sprained knee would. His visit with Stephanie earlier in the day had only clouded his mind with thoughts he was trying to abstain from having. Even now as her name echoed throughout his head, a slim smile threatened to form on his face. Then he glanced ahead and the sight of his intolerant girlfriend made him grimace instead.

"I repeat, where were you?"

"Why does it matter?" he grumbled.

"I'm your girlfriend, Hunter. You shouldn't keep secrets from me."

That did it. His lust for winning the argument took over. All reason or rhyme had been abandoned.

"You wanna hear a secret?" Speaking on impulse, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. It practically rolled off his tongue as he boldly enunciated each word. "I just came back from my ex-wife's office!"

Macy's jaw dropped slightly, her eyes wide with…something. Disbelief, maybe anger. Shock. It even took a moment for it to register in Hunter's head, what he'd just uttered. The act was up. His deepest, darkest secret was out there now. It was irrevocable and indisputable. Hesitance whether to feel regretful or relieved radiated within him. Macy was destined to find out at some point, right? Especially with Stephanie popping up erratically nowadays. Someone would surely tell Macy about their marriage, even if it was an unintended slip. Hunter just never thought he would be that someone.

"Ex…wife?" she whispered. "You were…you were _married_?"

If Macy had known a damn thing about wrestling, she would have been clued in about Stephanie, about the era they had created and dominated side by side. But she didn't. That was one of the prominent reasons why her relationship with Hunter worked. He could act like Stephanie was nonexistent, not only for her sake, but his. A simple mention of his ex-wife's name would infuriate and sadden him simultaneously. For the longest time forgetting her seemed to be the best way to go about things. But now that Stephanie was slowly but surely creeping back into his life, was it truly worth pretending she wasn't real?

"Get out."

Hunter lifted his head up. Macy was standing simply feet away from him, arms crossed over her chest and her left foot tapping impatiently. He scratched at his beard and tilted his head to one side. For sure, he must have misheard what she said.

"Come again?"

She pointed to the door, clarifying her intentions. "Get out. Now." Her green eyes were fierce, narrowed at him irately. She was…kicking him out? Of his own hotel room? He stood there frozen. This wasn't some delusion. It was real…as real as Stephanie McMahon in all her glory. After all those times that he'd threatened to throw Macy out on the streets, she was doing that very thing to him. She was playing his own game and beating him at it, for that matter. Unbelievable.

This was…wonderful.

His lips upturned into a cheeky grin. He couldn't restrain the laughter that made his shoulders shake. What should have been a feeling of sorrow was actually amusement. He was getting exactly what he wanted. If he had known it would be this easy, he would have played the Stephanie card a very long time ago. He wasn't being beat at his own game. He was winning!

Macy on the other hand was not pleased. She seemed taken aback by his reaction. Apparently she was expecting a plea for forgiveness or an apology down on his knees. Hunter didn't play that way. But if looks could kill, right now he would be dead. Steadily, he inched away from the blonde, until his footing was thrown off by a lump lying on the carpet.

_Meeeeoooowwww!_

The frantic cat scurried out from underneath him and retreated to the sofa across the room. Hunter regained his balance and when he did, a vengeful smirk graced his lips. _Payback. Eat my shoes; I'll step on your head! _He ignored the horrified expression on Macy's face. It looked as if she were about to chew him out for hurting her filthy pet, but instead she turned around to tend to the thing. Her priorities were still out of whack, but that would no longer affect him starting now. With all of the uncertainty recently, he was sure of one thing. He definitely wouldn't miss Pickle…or Pepper…or whatever the fuck its name was.

Hunter gathered his bags quickly and left without turning back. Macy didn't seem to be having second thoughts about kicking him out. Her attention was fixated on the cat anyways. The door clicked shut behind him. Silently, he celebrated. It was the sound of his freedom. God knows how unfamiliar the feeling had been to him for the longest time.

As he looked left and right down the empty hallway of the hotel, it suddenly dawned on him that he didn't really have anywhere to go now. It was too late at night to go knocking down someone's door to ask if he could room with them. Besides, most of his colleagues hated his guts. It would take some skilled persuasion or a miracle for them to even contemplate the thought of welcoming him into their dwelling for the night.

So he settled with the only remaining option of going down to the lobby desk and requesting a new room.

* * *

A sigh of frustration left Stephanie's lips as her fingers remained motionless on the keyboard of her laptop. Typing up this article simply was not going to happen tonight. Curiosity and anguish preoccupied the space of her mind. Or whatever was left of it at least. Adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose, Stephanie absently kicked her legs back and forth. Her blue orbs were fixed on the bright computer screen, particularly the locked file named "Apology." Again, she exhaled.

She had quite the mystery on her hands. If it weren't for her chat with Hunter earlier today, she would be sulking entirely. But now there was a sliver of hope amid the confusion. His agreement to help her sort out the past and uncover the tale behind her memory loss would hopefully provide her with answers – to this file, to her life, and to everything else.

She could still feel Hunter's mouth hovering over hers hesitantly. His hot breath tickled her skin and his hazel eyes were abundant with lust. The only thing preventing their lips from fusing together was the unfortunate space in between them. The distance was quickly diminishing though. And despite her initial hatred of the man, she had been so prepared to kiss him. Her stomach had been churning with anticipation. Then fucking Todd barged in at the fucking worst second, ruining everything! They briskly sprung apart and all she could do was imagine how wonderful it would have been.

Shaking her head, Stephanie closed out of the window on her screen. There was no use in torturing herself this way. Each and every thought of hers seemed to leave her with an aching heart. Her family was hiding something. Strange men despised her. Her memory was failing her more and more each day. And then there was Hunter, the centerpiece of her bewilderment.

Certain things about him seemed all too familiar, as if she had known him in another life. When he wasn't acting like an asshole, Stephanie actually felt like he was an old best friend from her childhood. Many laughs were capable of being shared with the man. He was naturally witty and appeared to possess a sense of humor that was similar to hers. And it didn't hurt that the man was exceptionally good-looking. A sight for sore eyes he was indeed. His devilish grin, flowing blonde locks, and vivid hazel eyes were only a few of his most impressive features. Stephanie found herself gazing at him more than she should have at times, desperately hoping she would catch him staring back. Just one grin or nod of the head made her knees weak in an instant, and that scared her terribly.

As her computer went black signaling that it had turned off, Stephanie stared at the blank screen. She met eyes with her own reflection and lifted a stern finger to wag at herself.

"You will _not_ fall in love with Hunter Hearst Helmsley, do you hear me?"

Shutting her eyes securely, she prayed in silence that she had enough discipline to obey that command.

* * *

Shane McMahon ran his fingers through the dark strands atop his head in deep contemplation. To interfere or not to interfere; that was the question. His brown eyes shamelessly travelled up and down the mahogany door of the suite. Curling his fingers into a fist, he raised his hand up and prepared to knock. God, he hated meddling. Even more so, he hated meddling when it regarded his sister. Stephanie was one for resolving her own conflicts. She didn't want nor need outside assistance. Normally he would comply with her wishes, but when her safety was at risk, all bets were off.

He rapped his knuckles against the wood and waited. The door opened nearly seconds later, revealing a wide awake Vince McMahon on the other side. His glasses were pushed to the brim of his nose and his graying hair was kept untidy.

"What brings you here, Shane-O?" The elder man glanced at his wristwatch. "I didn't know you were one for staying up past two in the morning. Guess it must run in the family."

Shane uttered a quick, pretense laugh before rubbing his palms together nervously.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"And _now_ is the best time?" Vince asked, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

Sighing, Shane nodded and pushed past his father until they were both standing in the corridor of the room. During the day, the old goat was a whack job. At night, he was something else entirely – and not in a good way.

"I think there's something going on between Steph and…and…" His voice trailed off at the growing expression of rage on Vince's face.

"And _who_?" he seethed.

Shane knew that by saying nothing at all, he was wordlessly answering his father's question. Fury flickered in the old man's eyes instantly. With clenched fists and a quivering bottom lip, Vince hurled a sharp blow at the wall. He winced slightly as he pulled back. He'd been expecting the dry wall to cave in, not his hand.

"Damn it!" Vince hollered. "This is all Helmsley's fault! Didn't the bastard learn his lesson the first time?"

"Apparently not. He showed up at her jo…" _Shit._ Shane brought his statement to a halt, but didn't quite catch himself fast enough. What was said had been said.

"Her job?"

Unbeknownst to his dad, guilt was eating him alive. Earlier in the day, Triple H had approached him and asked – well, more like demanded – to have the address of where his sister worked. Helmsley had him backed against the wall, his strong fingers gripping the collar of his shirt. Shane didn't really have a choice. He blurted out the name of her company and that was the last he saw of "the Game."

Technically it could have been anyone. With Hunter's knack for getting what he wanted, he could have goaded anyone into providing him with the information he needed. Shane just happened to be present at the time. That made him accountable for whatever took place between Stephanie and Hunter at her office. Surely he couldn't hit her, could he? That was what security was for. But he could cuss her out and call her on things of the past.

The past.

It was the touchiest subject of all when it came to Stephanie. She couldn't know. It would only shed more pain and confusion on her life. They had rid her of that long ago. What they had done might not have been morally acceptable, but it got the job done and that was all that mattered. Shane cringed, recalling the dark state he had found her in just less than five years ago…

* * *

December 19th, 2002 – Oakland, California

The house was dark – the eerie kind of dark where it was a struggle to make out your own hand in front of your face. The only sound came from the dripping faucet of the bathroom sink. _Drip, drip, drip. _Noise. She hated noise. It reminded of her talking. Talking. Hunter. Hunter talking to her. Hunter yelling at her. Divorce. Pain. _Drip, drip, drip. _

Stephanie plugged her ears as she crawled in her white towel across the tile floor. Her chest ached. It felt as if someone had held a match to her skin, leaving it there to burn a hole through her body. Fire. Flames. Passion. Love. Hunter. Fighting. Divorce. Pain. An involuntary scream escaped her chapped lips.

Physically, she was hurting. Mentally, she was hurting even more. There was no escape from the pain. It penetrated within her. The burning hole had been expanding hastily since the day he left. But she coped. She wrote the letters – hundreds of them. She wrote to him whenever time permitted her to, talking all about her new life and always reiterating her apology. It worked for some time. Stephanie felt like he was there, and occasionally he came to her in a dream, responding to the words she had written.

After a while, even that became unbearable. The hole inside of her was gaping. It overtook her lungs, making it difficult to breathe as she lied awake late at night. She stopped writing to him, sealing off access to the remorseful letters in a file on her computer. She moved the folder to a place where she wouldn't have to see it, ever.

_Drip, drip, drip._

Not able to muster enough strength to stand, Stephanie reached for the light switch on the wall. It blinded her as it flickered on. She moved her hands from her ears to shield her blue orbs from the white glow of the bathroom. _Drip, drip, drip._ Now her ears were left unprotected. Noise bothered her more than light, though. Carefully, she inserted a finger into each ear.

Her eyes travelled to the faucet. There was no water. It stopped. Unplugging her ears once again, she waited. And waited.

_Drip, drip drip. _

There was still…no water. Her instinct told her to look down. So she did. And that's when she saw red. A stream of blood trickling from each of her wrists, creating a scarlet puddle on the floor. The stench didn't bother her though. She had become strangely accustomed to the smell of blood as of late. It flowed out of her like a river. Like the love that once flowed out of her for Hunter. She cried out his name into the empty house but only heard the echo of her own voice in response.

A sharp pain invaded her chest.

Immediately, Stephanie hunched over on the floor, reaching out in front of her for the only object attainable. The metal was still somewhat heated. It left burn marks on the inside of her hand. But that was nothing, really. She moved the razor to her thigh, letting the blade softly caress her skin. She threw her head back, preparing herself for the agony. Now she trailed it up her leg so that it sank deep into her creamy flesh.

Blood. It stained the floor. It stained her towel. It stained her skin.

Her vision began to abandon her, as did her consciousness. Her head wearily rested on the chilled tile floor. She was awaiting death; that's what she was doing. Each night it was the same old song and dance. To relieve the pain in her chest, she inflicted it on every other part of her body. A heated razor blade had become her greatest companion. The flowing blood told her she was still alive. Now she found herself craving the day it no longer pulsed through her veins. Death was her fate. She might as well not elongate the process.

But above all, Stephanie wanted Hunter to be the one who found her lying lifeless on her bathroom floor. She wanted him to step foot in her pool of blood and touch the cold skin of her corpse. Then he would know. He would know of the pain he caused her and feel shame for being the reason for her death. Murder was defined as the slaughter of another human. And that was precisely what he had done.

She whined his name over and over again, anticipating his arrival. She did so until fading out into the darkness of sleep.

One hour later, Shane McMahon walked in and laid eyes on what he presumed to be his dead sister.

* * *

He shuddered at the flashback. The image of his sister lying there in a sea of red sent a shiver up and down his spine. And it was all because of Hunter. His neglect had driven her to that, leaving her family to pick up the pieces. There was no way for her to go on though. The damage had been done and no amount of therapy or antidepressants would save her. So they forced memory loss upon her, giving her a second chance at life. The method was both time consuming and risky, but worth it in the end.

Shane's lips fell into a frown. She couldn't go back to that. She just couldn't. Vince cleared his throat and spoke up quietly.

"We need to stop this before…" His voice trailed off uneasily, but Shane finished the thought for him.

"…before history repeats itself."


	12. Midnight Visitor

He couldn't seem to thrust aside the feeling that this was a stupid idea.

An incredibly stupid idea.

Adjusting his leather jacket for the umpteenth time, Hunter fretfully scuffed his shoes against the carpet. The sound was muffled by the low buzzing of a vending machine behind him. In spite of the late hour, the halls were still seemingly bright. He fiddled nervously with the handle of his suitcase. By showing up here, he was essentially surrendering every ounce of dignity he still had, which wasn't much. He was disregarding everything he stood for. All those beliefs that he had forced upon himself were meaningless.

Sighing, he lifted one arm. He allowed his closed fist to hover over the wood for a moment before knocking. God, there was a part of him that hoped the knock wasn't loud enough to wake the sleeping occupant. Then he would be forced to turn the other cheek, regardless of what his heart wanted. He needed to obliterate these resurfacing feelings of the past. He needed to squash them like he should have done back in early 2000. Then he wouldn't be in the middle of this mess. No one would.

As the door opened, he inched himself away from it and watched her jadedly rub at her squinted eyes. She blinked a few times, in what he assumed to be disbelief.

"Hunter?"

Stephanie pulled the sash of her silky red robe tighter around her midsection. For a moment, it was utterly lost on her that underneath it, she was wearing next to nothing. Her chestnut locks were entwined into what resembled a spider web of some sort and she was sporting no make-up, which made the dark swells under her eyes prominent against her pale features. Long story short, she looked like a wreck…and with any other person, she probably would have cared.

"Yeah," he began, clearing his throat. "I guess I just wanted to make sure you were okay…you know, after what happened at the office today."

Inwardly, Hunter applauded himself for his newfound credibility in regards to lying on the spot. He was certainly showing signs of improvement, though a part of him knew he would always be transparent with Stephanie. But the fact that he wasn't chewing on his bottom lip or shifting his weight from side to side was remarkable progress.

Maybe it was because he wasn't entirely lying, but simply omitting some of the truth. For example, he decided it would be best not to mention Macy or however the hell she tied into his life. He himself was still residually stunned at the fact that she threw him out. The bitch was just bad news altogether. Nothing good would come out of bringing her up. Secondly, he wasn't prepared to spill his heart out right here, right now and admit the real reason why he showed up at her door in the middle of the night. Before that could happen, he had to admit the truth to himself.

"That's…sweet of you," Stephanie concluded. She bit down on her bottom lip, contemplating over what she planned to say next. Considering she wasn't truly sure where Hunter was going with this, a sense of hesitancy overcame her. There was still an uneasiness suspended between them after what nearly occurred in her office today. They almost kissed for Christ's sake! And oddly enough, she sort of wanted it to happen. God, his cologne was still as invigorating as it was then. _Oh, what could go wrong?_ Swallowing for courage, she raised the offer. "Do you want to come inside?"

She gestured to the room over her shoulder and watched him crinkle his face in resistance.

"I couldn't impose on you like that, Steph," he stated adamantly.

At that, a witty smirk formed on her lips and she folded her arms over her chest.

"Hunter, you show up here at…God knows what time it is in the morning, knock on my door, and _now_ you decide to fuss about being a nuisance?" She felt it. She didn't know what the hell it was she felt, but she felt it. Instinct was taking control, presenting itself in both her words and actions. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, but wonderful even so. Stepping forward with one foot, she poked his chest. "You're crazy, you know that?"

His hearty laugh echoed down the vacant corridor. Not only was she speaking with that sarcastic tone that he had always loved, but she touched him with playful intentions. It was rather amusing actually. Not too long ago, the two of them openly voiced their hatred for one another. His was more of a grudge though, and a justified one at that. Stephanie was simply returning the detestation because…well, that's how she was. The McMahon temper pulsated through her veins, meaning that she didn't take shit from anybody. She got even. No, she did more than that. She played the game. And she won. Always. She was evil and sadistic. It was part of the reason he had fallen for her in the first place.

_I'm only crazy about you_, he thought pathetically, in response to her accusation. Of course, he would never let the admission turn into more than just a thought. It was evident that neither one of them was ready for that.

But what he was ready for was a conversation – one that wouldn't be interrupted by apprehensive family members or persistently creepy colleagues.

"Well, in that case, maybe I would like to come inside," Hunter finally said.

Smiling thoughtfully at his decision, Stephanie stepped aside to let him enter through the doorway. She swore her heart skipped a beat, when for the shortest second, his shoulder brushed against hers. Even through several layers of material she could literally feel the warmth radiating from his skin. Closing her eyes, she wetted her bottom lip with her tongue. A taunting flashback of their near kiss replayed in her mind, eliciting a low groan under her breath. Damn…fucking…Todd! That fucking dork always ruined everything! Now she was left with sheer speculations as to how his lips would taste against hers. His soft, luscious…

"Steph?"

Her cheeks flooded with instant heat as she snapped out of her trance. Nervously, she cleared her throat and toyed with her knuckles, all while avoiding eye contact with Hunter. Shit, she had to stop zoning off in his presence. She was acting like a love struck school girl, for crying out loud. The behavior was unmanageable though. Something about him always made her inclined to drift off into her own little world.

She looked up, still faintly embarrassed, into Hunter's curious hazel stare. His head was tilted to one side as he waited for her to acknowledge him in some way. Well shit, he probably thought she was socially awkward with all of these elongated silences on her part. Uneasily, she formed a single worded response.

"Yeah?"

She mentally cringed at the fact that her pitch was unusually high and oddly resembled the croak of a frog.

"Is there some kind of problem?"

Although Stephanie couldn't see it, Hunter was fighting back the urge to laugh – and not doing a very good job in his opinion. A devilish smirk was already adorning his handsome features. She was obviously deep in thought as she lingered near the entry of the hotel room. He smiled at the possibility that she might have been thinking about him…

No. He had to stop this. Theories as such were dangerous. They ultimately resulted in disappointment. Like…like their baby that had been allegedly growing inside of her. To this day, the whole thing still haunted him. He would do everything he could to prevent himself from dwelling on it, but at this very moment, there was really no turning back. His mind was already far too fixated on the memory.

Hunter wanted nothing more than to be a father. Stephanie knew that. She knew it damn well, because she longed for the same thing. They would have made wonderful parents in spite of the roller coaster type marriage they had. The moment he found out that he would be a daddy, all of their problems became nonexistent. All the shit that went down with Trish Stratus, Kurt Angle, and whoever else tried to fuck with their relationship…well, it was all irrelevant. Stephanie and the little life in her belly were all that mattered to him.

During the period of time where he genuinely believed she was pregnant, their romance had never been stronger. Something changed. When he saw her, he didn't just see his wife. He saw the mother of his child – the woman who was giving him something that was once presumably impossible. She was giving him a reason to live. She was his purpose. Life was better in general. More smiles and laughs were shared. The moments they spent together counted. They didn't just have sex, but wholeheartedly made love to one another. Hunter felt connected to her not only through body, but through heart and soul. The feeling was so strange but it took his breath away…literally. When they finished, she would lay her head down on his bare chest. She would look at him with those dazzling blue orbs of hers and intertwine their fingers lazily. With his other hand he would gently rub her abdomen, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. They were going to have a baby. God, he had wanted this so bad. He was going to be a father and the woman he loved more than anything would be the mother to that same child. His child.

But in the end, it was all too good to be true. The smiles, the laughs, the sex…all of it meant nothing. They were just a part of her master plan to rip his heart out and stomp it into pieces. All of this became clear to him when he received the tape on the evening of what was supposed to be their vow renewals. It was the dreaded tape that exposed his wife for the deceitful bitch she was and foreshadowed the end of their marriage.

He shut his eyes tightly for a moment. He didn't want to reminisce over this. The blood was already pulsing wildly through his body and his clammy palms were clenched into fists out of rage. These were the memories that made him hate her. They made him want to curse her out and remind her of her sins. Hunter stepped back tentatively. He couldn't do that though, in spite of how much she had hurt him. After a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes. Stephanie was only feet away from him now. He took another step away. The shortness in distance was dangerous. He couldn't trust himself this close to her.

"Hunter?" Her voice was filled with concern, but naïve concern. Hunter sighed. He had to keep telling himself that this person in front of him was _not_ the person he had once been married to. Maybe she looked the same appearance wise, had the same scent, and carried herself about with the same habits, but she just wasn't…her. She had no recollection of their marriage, so it was only fair of him to treat her like a newfound friend. And to some degree, a stranger. "Are you alright?"

Hunter looked up. Her eyes would be the death of him. He was positive that would never change, even if everything else did.

"I'm fine," he answered somewhat coolly. "Are you alright?"

Stephanie furrowed her brow. Hunter always shifted the focus to her. He would ask her a million questions about herself and in return, she would learn some insignificant detail about him. As of right now, she knew that his favorite food was steak and his hobby outside of wrestling was training at the gym. Honestly, she could have drawn those two conclusions without him even telling her. The guy was the size of a building. What she wanted was to know the real him – to hear about his feelings, goals, and experiences.

"Let's not talk about me."

Now it was Hunter's turn to scrunch his face in confusion. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

"You," she replied. Gesturing to a chair, she continued on, while grabbing a seat of her own. "Sit down, Hunter. Tell me about yourself."

He followed her orders with reluctance and chuckled nervously under his breath. A part of him wondered why she was so at ease right now. Other than a few encounters – most of which were unpleasant – they hardly knew each other at all. Stephanie didn't remember shit about him and he didn't know shit about the new Stephanie. Old Stephanie was just absent altogether, probably floating off in a parallel universe…or something. They technically _were_ strangers on so many levels.

Yet he had showed up at her hotel room in the middle of the night unannounced and she didn't have to think twice about inviting him inside. This gave him hope. Underneath it all, he knew she was still there. It was just a matter of drawing her out. But…was that what he really wanted? To confront the woman he despised with everything inside of him? He shifted uncomfortably in the chair as she tucked a stray lock behind her ear. She was staring at him inquisitively.

"What would you say the happiest moment in your life has been so far?"

He bit down hard on his tongue. There were so many things he would have blurted out otherwise. Leave it to Stephanie McMahon to ask him a question that left him speechless. Not because he didn't know what to say, but because he didn't want to say the wrong thing. Frantically, he racked his brain for a safe answer. _Think, Hunter, think! Surely you've had happy moments that didn't involve Steph… _

He scratched at his stubbly chin. _Okay, that will work._

"I would have to say returning from my quadriceps tear back in 2002. It was January 7th at Madison Square Garden. The crowd was electric…chanting my name all night. There was a standing ovation when my music finally hit. I never thought that a reaction like that would impact me so much."

Stephanie pressed her lips together in a tight smile. She took note of the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the business. He likely wasn't even aware of the animated hand motions he made either. He was passionate about his thing. For some reason, she found that cool.

"How did you tear your quad?"

"It's funny actually," he began, shaking his head in amusement. "I simply planted my foot in the ring and the muscle just tore right off the bone. It rolled up my thigh and everything." Only when his voice trailed off did he notice the look of horrification on Stephanie's face.

"How the fuck is that _funny_?"

He chuckled at her outburst, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

"Well, of course it wasn't funny at the time…but looking back, it's sort of silly how I ended up hurt. You never realize how much stress you've put on your body until it just gives out on you."

An edgy silence followed. With her brown strands partially shielding her face like a curtain, Stephanie let Hunter's last words ring in her head eerily. These days, everything was a constant reminder of her condition.

Condition? Fuck, it really was like she had a disease of some sort.

"Steph? You okay?"

His tone was gentle. Obviously, he thought he had offended her in some way and was seemingly apologetic for it. She lifted her head slowly until she met his remorseful gaze. His eyes appeared to be a brownish tint under the dim lighting. She felt both comforted and terrified by the emotions he was stirring up inside of her. Looking at him now, things were truly beginning to settle in at full force.

She was…falling in love with him. She couldn't deny it and most definitely couldn't ignore it. Somberly, she wiped at her nose with her sleeve. She, Stephanie McMahon, was in love with Hunter Hearst Helmsley.

How the hell she managed to talk while being so overwhelmed was beyond her.

"Do you think that's what happened to my memory, Hunter? It just…gave out on me?"

The sadness in her words made his heart sink. Maybe it was possible to pity the devil, because within moments, he was holding her in his arms, caressing her dimpled chin the way he used to.

"Come here," he hushed, allowing her to nuzzle into his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, Stephanie felt safe. She knew that Hunter was not going to hurt her. In fact, he was going to do the exact opposite. He would ease her existent pain and hopefully help to recover her memory. It was a peculiar, unexplainable thing, but she trusted him. She trusted him with her own life and that was all she had to offer at this point.

"I want to help you, Steph. I really do."

Not breaking the embrace, she lifted her gaze to meet his, while Hunter absently ran his hand up and down her spine.

"I can't do this alone," she murmured.

"And you won't." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I know a lot more about you than I've let on, Steph. I care about you more than you think. In due time, hopefully I'll be able to explain some of that. But for right now? I want to be here for you as much as I possibly can. Tell me what you need from me, Steph. Anything. You name it, I'll do it."

She smiled giddily and ran her fingertips along the side of his face.

"This week, I was planning to scan through some medical records for signs of head trauma or anything like that. Quite frankly though, hospitals give me the creeps…so I wouldn't mind some company?"

Hunter nodded. Although he knew the McMahons' were behind all of this, he wasn't sure of the specifics. He was actually curious himself to know what immoral procedure they had done to their daughter to wipe out her memory. God, the whole thing was sickening and wrong on so many levels.

"And there's one more thing," Stephanie began as she unwrapped his arms from around her. She readjusted herself on the piece of furniture so that her face was directly in front of his. And then, much to Hunter's surprise, she planted a brief kiss on his lips. It was short and sweet, only lasting for a few seconds really, but he felt the spark. It was still there, and she had to have felt it too. He was almost certain she did judging by the dorky grin she currently wore. "I've been meaning to do that all day now."

He brushed a few strands away from her face.

"I've been waiting half a decade, McMahon."


End file.
